A Sky Full of Stars
by SoundedSummer
Summary: Steve had everything he ever wanted... and then lost it when they pulled him out of the Ice. When Loki, and Thor, show up, Steve will burn the world to find the answers he wants. Harry Potter has always known who he is. He is the spitting image of his father, has his mother's eyes, and he likes it that way. Until he suddenly isn't. Full Summary Inside
1. Chapter 1

**AN-A response to Njchrispatrick's Steve/Thor HP Crossover challenge. It can be found on his profile , and I highly recommend his work. **

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: MPreg, Slash, Violence, Profanity**

**Disclaimer-I own nothing. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. All copyrighted characters, situations and places remain the sole property of their copyright holders. **

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Loki couldn't hold back a smirk as he looked at the two intertwined figures in the bed. One was Thor, long blonde hair strewn across the pillow. His mouth was open and he was snoring slightly. Muscled arms were wrapped around the other figure, hugging him close to his strapping, hair-covered chest. The other figure was another man, large though not as large as Thor, with slightly darker blonde hair and a clean-shaven face. He seemed more clean-cut than the rugged Thor, his body smooth and his hair short.

He was not what Loki expected, in one of Thor's companions.

The Trickster god walked to the side of the bed, sitting down on it but being careful not to wake the men. One eyebrow rose as Thor murmured something in his sleep and hugged the other man closer to himself, bearded chin resting on top of his head. Loki shook his head and smiled slightly at his brother. While Thor may have often been the brutish, tactless oaf, when he cared for someone he was very loving to them. And Thor obviously loved this man, especially considering that he had broken his own father's commands to see him.

One pale hand moved to rest against the chiseled abs of Thor's bed-mate. The man stirred very slightly so Loki quickly dropped a sleeping spell over him, letting the man settle down. Then Loki used the hand on the man's stomach to reach his magic inward, to feel within. He could feel Thor's essence within the man, the Thunder God's fertile seed still coating the man's insides.

Well, didn't that just give him a wealth of possibilities?

Loki looked over the man's massive shoulders to watch his brother's face. In sleep his brother looked so peaceful, so innocent. While many in Asgard believed that Loki was jealous of and disliked his brother, especially the Warrior's Three, it was not so. Yes he hated Thor's arrogance, and was jealous of their father's favoritism, but Thor was his brother, his oldest companion. He could not hate Thor.

Loki closed his eyes, feeling the magic pour from him into Thor's companion. It felt cold, but not the harsh cold of winter; it was the chill of an autumn breeze, refreshing and light. It filled the man before him, shaping him, changing him within. Loki's own natural shape shifting abilities were what allowed the impossible to become real.

The man moved slightly in his sleep, thick eyebrows furrowing at the strange sensation that he no doubt felt even through the spell. But Loki ignored it as his work bore fruit. The man's body began to change as Thor's seed latched onto him, his internal passages shifting to accommodate its new attachment.

Loki's magic withdrew when its task was complete and he breathed heavily, his magic nearly exhausted from the strain. But he was successful, and for that he smiled. One day Loki would tell his brother of what he had done, perhaps get to receive gratitude and praise for once instead of scorn and ridicule. However, for now he would let the men rest. After all, it was not every day that two men, a mortal and an immortal, could become parents.

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><p>Steve retched into the gutter, his stomach rolling as he threw up everything he had eaten, ever. The Howling Commandos ringed the ally they were in, eyeing him with concern but keeping a watchful gaze for any enemies that they had missed during the sweep. Bucky rest a hand on the base of his neck and squeezed, instincts from years of looking out for Steve rearing their head despite the Serum.<p>

Three weeks. He had been sick, daily, for three weeks. He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep, there was always a low feeling of nausea in his stomach and he was tired of it.

"Steve, you need to talk to Phillips. Or at least that punk Stark. This is not natural." Bucky said, squeezing tighter as Steve groaned and dry heaved again. "Something could have gone wrong with the damn Serum."

Steve shook his head violently, even as the rest of the Commandos gave murmurs of agreement.

"No, I'm fine Bucky. It's probably just somethin' I ate." Steve straightened himself as he spoke, knowing deep in his gut that something else was very, very wrong. But it wasn't the Serum. He still moved just as quickly, reacted as well as he should (maybe even better), and hit just as hard as he had since the beginning.

Whatever was wrong, it was wrong in spite of the Serum, not because of it.

"Move out. Jim, Monty, sweep to the edges of town, I don't want them sneaking up on us. The rest of you, stay sharp." Steve coughed harshly, the taste of bile still strong on his tongue, but he shouldered his gun again and began moving with his men.

Whatever was wrong, he didn't have time to worry about it now. He had a war to help win, he could deal with a little vomiting.

Steve rounded the corner into the deserted village proper, shield strapped to his back and ready for anything.

He missed the eyes staring at him from the shadows that watched him until he was out of sight.

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><p>Steve continued pummeling the bag in front of him, his breathing becoming harsher as he fought back the past.<p>

Seventy years.

Seventy years gone in the blink of an eye.

Everyone he knew, gone. Steve knew, he had checked for them all.

Peggy was in a nursing home in England, and barely remembered her own name let alone his. That had been like a knife to his gut, watching the strongest woman he had ever known wander lost in her own mind.

Howard was dead, had been for over twenty years, and his son seemed nothing like his father from everything that Steve had found on him. It was as shame, Howard had been a great man. A great friend.

The rest of the Commandos were gone, leaving behind families and friends that remembered him, but that he didn't know. There was nothing there for him.

There was no one here for him.

He left everything behind.

They should have left him in the ice.

"Captain, may I have a word with you?" Fury spoke from behind him, but Steve never slowed his punches, the sound of his hands slamming into fabric soothing. "Captain?"

Steve shrugged, refusing to turn.

Petty, but if Fury wanted to talk, he could talk to his back.

'Couldn't sleep?" Steve snorted at the question.

"I was asleep for seventy years, I think I've had my fill." Another bag joined the mountain of them on the floor and Steve gave up, stepping back from the remains of it and unwinding the tape from around his hands. It was unnecessary now, the Serum healing whatever damage he gave himself before it was an issue, but old habits died hard. Some harder than others.

"You should be out, seeing the world. Celebrating." Fury said the word and Steve's heart clenched.

Celebrating? What was he supposed to be celebrating?

"When I went under, we were at war. When I woke up they said we won." Steve said, inhaling until he couldn't hold it anymore, trying not to imagine replacing the bag with Fury's head. "They didn't say what we lost."

Didn't say what he'd lost.

The file that he'd almost bullied Agent Coulson into digging up for him, lay sitting on his coffee table in his tiny Brooklyn apartment, and had been for the last two weeks. He hadn't gathered the nerve to open it yet, but from the size of it he knew exactly what would be written there.

Steve didn't think that he could take that knowledge. Thinking it was one thing, seeing it written in black and white was different.

"We've all lost something, Rogers, some more recently than others." Steve looked up and bit back the groan.

Of course, that's why he was here. The small talk was just to try and butter him up.

"Here with a mission, Sir?"

"I am." Fury didn't deny it, at least that was something.

"Trying to get me back into the world?" Steve asked sarcastically, knowing he would go AWOL if Fury tried to send him to one more SHIELD mixer. Agents were good backup on missions, but he wanted to spend as little time around them on his off hours as possible. There was only so much shop talk that he could take.

"No. To save it." Steve took the file that Fury handed him and flipped through it without really listening. The cube, Hydra's secret weapon, the one thing that Steve was glad got buried by time, stared back at him.

Hearing Howard, probably the only person other than Steve that had known what it was capable of, had pulled it from the deaths and handed it over to SHIELD filled him with rage.

They should have left it were they found it, and he said as much. Didn't people ever learn?

"Who took it from you?" someone stronger always got the one thing you didn't want them too, it was a law of nature. Unchangeable.

"Calls himself Loki. He's… not from around here." Steve tightened his grip on the folder in his hands until the paper wrinkled and began to tear.

It couldn't be. Loki, his Loki, had to be dead by now. Seventy years for a man already in his thirties was a long shot.

But still….

Steve barely listened as Fury talked, his mind elsewhere until the Director left.

Even if it wasn't His Loki, Steve couldn't keep the hope from blooming in his chest.

Two days later, Steve thought that he was going to hyperventilate. He steadied himself as much as he could, gripping the edge of the Quintet walls until he felt he was steady on his feet.

Loki. The Loki. His Loki. The Loki that took Him, who promised to keep Him safe.

The Loki who lied.

Steve glared the bastard currently sitting on the bench like a King, barely registering the questions Tony Stark was throwing at him. He wouldn't have been able to give you any of the answers he gave if his life depended on it.

Loki was there, in front of him, and all Steve could think of was Dustin.

Dustin as he last saw him. Ten tiny little fingers, ten perfect little toes. The most important person he ever failed.

And it was all because he trusted the wrong person.

It was not a mistake that he would repeat.

Clenching his fist, Steve stepped forward ready to find out what happened no matter who was listening, when lightening sparked and thunder rolled over head, the storm brewing out of nowhere. Loki flinched back, and Steve couldn't help but poke at the sore spot.

"What? You afraid of a little lightening?" He didn't care if he was being cruel. Steve wanted to be a lot crueler, but unfortunately there were others present that may disagree with his chosen course of action.

"No, I'm not overly fond of what comes after."

The back of the Quinjet was ripped open, Agent Romanoff straightening their flight up as quickly as she was able, but she was the only one who reacted quickly. A red caped figure was in, grabbing hold of Loki and dragging the Asgardian out before Steve was able to stop him.

He couldn't let that happen, not until he had his answers.

And the Tesseract. That was important too, but not Steve's first priority.

"Might want to sit this one out, Cap!" Natasha yelled from the front of the jet, frantically flipping switches to keep them flying straight. "They are way out of our league, they are practically Gods!"

Steve made a flippant comment as he grabbed one of the parachutes, slinging it on his back before heading for the back.

He didn't care if they were giant space birds, he was going to get his answers. And nothing was going to stop him. Nothing.

Wind rushed past him as he went into free fall, his shield held out in front of him cutting his wind resistance. He could see the glow of Stark's suit ahead of him, and followed it in. He wasn't going to get there first, but he would get there in time.

Stark was flying towards Red Cape, who looked hauntingly familiar to Steve, when he landed hard on the ground, the vibration of the landing shaking his bones before he adjusted.

"Enough!" Steve yelled as he threw his shield, coming close to hitting them both before it careened back into his hand. It got their attention, and Steve found his eyes darting around the clearing, not seeing the one person he was looking for. Loki wasn't there! Had he escaped already? Dammit! "Why are you here?"

"I am here to stop Loki's schemes, and return the Tesseract to Asgard."

That voice, Steve knew that voice. He looked up meeting His eyes for the first time in over seventy years.

But there was no recognition, his eyes didn't even twitch.

That was almost disappointing, actually.

"It looks like we all want the same thing. So," Steve held up his hands, wanting to diffuse the situation before it got worse. He could deal with everything else when no one was in danger of being killed. "why don't you put the hammer down.."

"Uh, bad idea cap'n, he really likes his hammer." Stark, Iron Man, was knocked aside and away, sliding across the stone covered ground until he slammed into a boulder and lay still by a casual strike of the hammer while Thor got into position. He was not ready to give up, and Steve didn't really like where things were going.

"You want me to put the Hammer down?" Steve saw where he was going and took a deep breath, readying himself as the god took a huge leap, bringing the hammer down in a savage arc as Steve moved the shield into place. He didn't know if it would be enough to stand up to this, but he wasn't going to give in without a fight.

The world exploded as the hammer impacted and Steve gritted his teeth as he fought to stay standing. Thor was tossed back by the shockwave, the hammer flying out of his hand and landing somewhere among the still standing trees.

Well, Howard did say it would stand up to anything, good to know he was right yet again. Steve stepped out from behind the shield, slinging it over his back and groaning as he caught his cowl with the motion, knocking it off his head. His hair was sweaty and plastered to his forehead, dirt clung to his uniform from landing on the ground, and he had spandex tucked in places no spandex should ever see.

But Thor was staring at him like he was the sun, awe and longing on his face.

"Steven?"

"Thor. It's been a long time."

There was nothing else to say.

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><p>Steven…was alive.<p>

It was not possible, mortal lives were as short as the seasons. Thor would have told anyone who dared listen that his love was long dust, leaving nothing but bittersweet memories for Thor to remember.

And yet, he felt Steve's gaze on his back, the soldier looking exactly the same but tired and careworn. The past weighed heavy on those strong shoulders, and Thor wanted to sooth all the worries away.

But that, and answers, would have to wait until Loki had been dealt with.

"Loki's going to drag this out. So, Thor. What's his play?" Steven asked, his voice one soldier speaking to another, nothing of their past evident.

"He has an army, called the Chithauri. They are not of Asgard or of any world known. They will win him the Earth, in return for the Tesseract." Loki, another soul Thor thought lost to him, bringing down wanton destruction on a world Thor had come to love.

Simply to hurt Thor as revenge over real and imagined slights.

"So he's building another portal? That's what he needs Erik Selvig for." The one they called Hulk, a small and rather…weak looking mortal to Thor's eyes, spoke softly, pulling his glasses off his face. Thor blinked at the name. Would Loki's treachery run so far? Truly?

"Selvig?"

"He's an astrophysicist."

"He's a friend." And another lost to Loki's machinations. Mjolnir vibrated on his hip, reacting to the anger that was beginning to broil deep within him like a storm built power. Loki would have much to oay for when they returned to Asgard. Thor only hoped that he was able to contain as much of the damage as he could, before Loki went too far for even the Aesir to forgive.

"Loki has him under a spell, along with one of our own." The woman, Black Widow spoke for the first time, a quiet danger the warrior in Thor refused to ignore. She was deadly, and he knew that she wouldn't hesitate to do what she had to in order to remove her fellow from Loki's command. Thor hoped that he wouldn't have to harm her, but he would allow no one to injure his brother beyond repair. His judgment would not occur on Midgard, not when they were incapable of judging him fairly.

"What I want to know is why he let us take him so easily."

"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy is a bag of cats, you can smell the crazy on him." Banner kept a careful distance between himself and the others in the room, and despite his small appearance Thor couldn't allow a slight to his family to go unremarked.

"Have care how you speak." Thor said, his voice coming out evenly despite his urge to rage, "Loki is beyond reason, but is of Asgard. And he is my brother."

The room was quiet for a few moments, mortals looking between each other for something to say, anything to say, before the Widow gathered her nerve.

"He killed eighty people in two days."

"He's adopted." And if Loki had known that from the beginning, if he had not been left to find out during the hardest part of his life, all of this could have been avoided. Yet another failing to lay at the All Father's feet.

The conversation continued around him, the loud mortal who attempted to defeat him in his suit of Iron invading the conversation and making himself the center of attention in short order. The words he spoke were beyond Thor's understanding, but he was well versed in people who talked to disguise their actions and so he easily caught the small bit of metal the Man of Iron attached to the underside of the display he was examining.

Another clever mortal, it would not surprise him if Loki attempted to take this one next. His brother had forever been fascinated by those clever enough to match him.

"As soon as Loki took Selvig, we moved Jane Foster." Phil, the Son of Coul, leaned against the display some time later, the room clear of all but those necessary. Thor looked at the image of his lovely Jane, tracing her features with a finger. She was just as beautiful, just as alive, as she had been when he last lay eyes on her. She was everything he wanted, everything he needed in a queen. Even her mortality could be overcome, if she impressed the All Father like she impressed him.

But seeing Steven again, remembering the love that burned as hot and bright as a star for a painfully short time, brought the feelings back as if they have never dimmed with time, and pain.

Could he honestly walk away from having that, again? Coulson was making platitudes, telling him that Jane was safe (and happy) doing what she loved out of Loki's reach, but all Thor could think about was the danger Steven was in.

"Thank you." It was for the best Thor thought that Jane was not in front of him. He didn't know what he would do if he was faced with the two that held his heart, albeit different parts of it. "It is no accident, Loki taking Erik Selvig. I dread what Loki has planned for him, when he is done. Erik is a good man."

Coulson paced him as he walked away from the display, unable to continue looking at Jane's face with Steve so close to him, a half smile on his face.

"Erik talks about you often. You changed his life, you changed a lot of things around here." Thor could not take that as a compliment, knowing what he knew.

"Things were better as they were. We pretend on Asgard that we are more advanced, beyond mortal understanding, but we are not. We come here, battling like bilge snipe," Coulson gave him a confused look at the term, and Thor frowned. The Allspeak should ensure he was understood, had his mother's spell failed him?

"A what?"

"Bilge snipe. Huge, scaly, with large antlers. You don't have them?" Coulson's look of repulsion was answer enough, without his verbal response. "They are repulsive. And they trample everything in their path."

Much like Thor himself. He learned much during his forced exile on this planet, but he was of the opinion that it had not been the best experience for those already on Midgard. They had not been ready for Asgard, and they were paying the price now.

"When I first came to earth, Loki's rage followed me here, to your detriment. And now again. When I was a child, I courted War."

"We are not at war… yet." Fury spoke from the stairs leading to the lab that the rest had disappeared to, staring down at them like a benevolent ruler about to ask something no one would want to give. "You think you could make Loki tell where the Tesseract is?"

Thor sighed.

"I do not know. It is not just power he seeks, it is vengeance, against me. I do not know a pain that would change that need."

Fury wanted him to torture, not just his brother but a prisoner of war on his own vessel. Thor's fist clenched at his side, wanting to show Fury the error of his ways, but he was not given the chance.

"Natasha needs the both of you in the lab. Loki wants to unleash the Hulk." Without a word, Fury was turning on his heel, Thor close on his heels.

Banner was with Steve. He would allow no one to put Steve in danger if he could at all prevent it.

Not even himself.

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><p>They were not going to be enough. They would fight, and fight until none of them were left standing, but Steve knew that it was a losing battle.<p>

"Call it Captain." Tony Stark nodded at him, trusting him to know the right calls, to get them all through this, and Steve would do what he could.

Even as he knew it wouldn't be enough, and wasn't that ironic? Surviving Red Skull, surviving seventy years in the ice, to die defending New York from aliens and a God with severe brother issues.

At least, if he died, he would see Dustin again. It was clear to him now that he would never get the answers that he needed from Loki, the god was too far gone.

"We have got to bottleneck that portal. They keep getting through and we'll never stop them. Thor, do what you can. You've got the lightening, light the bastards up." Thor flew off with a nod and a quick squeeze of his shoulder, Stark lifting Hawkeye to a perch higher up at the same time. Steve wished he had time to explain, to share his grief with Thor, but it would have to be another in a long line of regrets.

Black Widow helped him hold the line as long as he could, but there were too many and she was needed elsewhere. He lifted her up with the shield, and took a deep breath, surveying the damage around him during a lull.

The bus that they had liberated earlier stood empty near the edge of the battle, Chithauri foot soldiers advancing towards it for another round, when movement caught his eye and his breath caught in his throat.

A small boy, sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes stood in the remains of the bus, his clothes tattered and blood running down his face. He clutched a dirty teddy bear tightly in his arms, wailing at the top of his lungs for anyone to hear.

Dustin. He looked so much like Dustin should have that Steve's heart clenched and he wanted to collapse to his knees.

How they had missed him before, how he managed to stay alive in this chaos didn't matter. He had been found, and the Chithauri were headed right for him. Steve was moving before he consciously thought, eating up the ground between them with quick strides. He was not going to watch this little boy die, if there was anything he could do to stop it. Even if it meant dying himself.

He reached the boy just as blue bolts started flying towards them, huddling both of them behind the shield. The boy was crying louder, and Steve pulled him close to his chest.

"I gotcha buddy, you're ok." Unfortunately he couldn't fight and protect the child at the same time. But there was no way he could leave him there defenseless. "I gotcha."

"Steven!" Steve had never been happier to see lightening in his life, Thor abandoning the portal and landing in front of him. Bolts fried the aliens with effortless swings, fueled by more anger than he had ever seen in a sentient being.

He didn't know what brought it on, but he would take the save.

"Are you alright, Steven?" There was horror on Thor's face as he stared at the two of them, horror that Steve couldn't put a finger on. "Are both of you alright?"

Steve could only nod, hiking the boy higher on his chest.

"I will take the boy to safety and return." Thor took the boy without waiting for Steve to respond, almost prying him out of the other man's arm and clutching him tight, swinging Mjolnir in a tight circle with the other hand. "We will survive this, and when we do, we will speak Steven. You will tell me everything."

Steve watched him fly away, heart in his throat again.

He knew. By God above, he knew about Dustin.

Loki would pay for it, he would pay for everything. Growling under his breath, Steve threw himself harder into the battle ahead.

He wanted his answers, and he was going to get them


	2. Chapter 2

**AN-I am completely blown away by the response to this story. Thank you to each and every one of you who has read, reviewed, and added me to favorite and author alert lists. You all are awesome!**

**Please don't expect updates this quickly all the time, though I am going to try to stay as often as I can. As for the few of you who have requested scenes from the past, as well as Thor and Steve finding out about Dustin, they are still coming. I have a few fun ones planned. **

**Thanks to njchrispatrick for continuing to push me on writing this.**

**Disclaimer-See chapter One. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

"Come along, Diddums!"Harry blinked at the ceiling as Aunt Petunia's voice rang through the neighborhood, speaking as loudly as she could to catch everyone's attention. "I'll drive you and Piers to the store in daddy's new car!"

Harry rolled his eyes and fought the urge to snort. He had been ready for this, ever since Vernon brought the new car home he knew that Petunia was looking for a reason to flout it to the neighbors that her husband got a fancy new car every quarter while their husbands drove year old models.

A typical summer in the Dursley household.

The bars were off his windows, but the locks and cat flap remained. He hadn't seen much of the Dursley family this summer, his threats of what his 'Homicidal maniac Godfather who killed thirteen people and then escaped from prison' would do if Harry was in any way injured had done wonders for the attitude in the house.

The food was even better, though Harry was going to bed still hungry more and more.

Hedwig hooted loudly from her cage, beating her wings wildly against the bars until Harry looked over at her, frowning.

She knew that he couldn't let her out yet, a snowy owl flying in and out of his bedroom in broad daylight would be one large sign pointing to something major being different in the house, not to mention what Uncle Vernon would do if he saw her. After his close encounter with the Minister after the Floating Marge situation last summer, Harry was wary of bringing any more attention down on his home than he had to.

Hedwig, of course, didn't agree with him. At all. And made sure that he knew about it as often as she possibly could. Harry was sure he was the only thirteen year old on earth that was henpecked by an owl.

"What, girl?" She just hooted louder, still beating her wings on the bars of her cage. She seemed to be trying to direct his attention, and he turned to look at the window.

"Bloody hell!" His jaw dropped at the bright, very very bright, blue bird sitting on his window sill, looking in at him. It was almost like a peacock, bright and meant to draw attention, but there was an intelligence in those eyes he had never heard of in a wild animal. "What are yo… oh."

There was a letter attached to the bird's foot, tied with bright red string, and Harry moved to let the mail in. The bird held out his foot haughtily for Harry to remove, gave Hedwig a disdainful look that resulted in her loudest screech yet, and flew back out the window in the space of five minutes.

Whoever sent the letter clearly wasn't interested in a reply.

With Aunt Petunia's voice still ringing from the front lawn, Harry settled back down on the sparse bed, opening the letter with little fanfare.

_Harry, _

_I am sorry with how things ended, I let my emotions get the best of me again and you're the one that paid the price. Again. Not the greatest godfather, am I prongslet? I guess I will just have to wait until I can make it up to you, but I will Harry. I will make up for every minute I left you to face the world alone. _

_It's nice being out of Britain and the rain, I have had enough of the cold to last me a lifetime. Cornelius did not seem too happy to leave the warm either, so I apologize if he takes after his blowhard namesake too much while he delivers this. _

_Merlin, I don't know how to say this. _

_Wait, no, I do. _

_Harry, your parents would be so proud of you. So very proud. There is so much I want to tell you, so much I need to tell you, but that is the only place I can think of to start. Everything you did made your dad grin brighter than I have ever seen. Your mom laughed herself sick when you tossed your pudding into James' face for the first time, though James didn't find it nearly as funny as she did. Prongs never could take a joke. It didn't matter to them that you weren't theirs by blood, not one bit. _

_And it doesn't matter to me, Harry. You are more the son of Lily and James Potter than you ever would be the son of people who left you on their doorstep. _

Harry dropped the letter, the parchment slipping to lay on the bedspread as if it hadn't held the words that turned his whole life upside down.

Sirius was joking. He had to be. It was horrible joke, but once a Marauder always a Marauder. That was the only thing it could be, Harry was a carbon copy of James Potter with Lily Evans Potter's eyes. He had to be their son.

He just wouldn't reply to Snuffles, until he wrote back and apologized. That was all there was to it. They would have a good laugh about it later, Harry was sure.

Stuffing the letter back in its rumpled envelope, and tossing it carelessly towards the cabinet he kept the few clothes that he had, making a mental note to stick in it a pocket or something Harry settled back onto the bed and resumed staring at the ceiling, dozing off in short order despite his desire to stay awake in the middle of the day.

He never heard Petunia suddenly stop extolling the virtues of "Darling Vernon's" new car, or the commotion that broke out when two new figures appeared on Privet Drive, delivered in a government car.

* * *

><p>Steve moved away from the hand Thor reached out to him, shooting the other man a glare.<p>

"Stop it." Steve said lowly, refusing to look away until the god moved back to his side of the car.

In the two months since Loki attacked Manhattan, Thor had been trying to reconnect with what they had before. He didn't understand that Steve couldn't.

And on top of that, Steve wouldn't.

Not when Dustin was still out there, and not when the memories Steve had of going under the knife, not knowing if he was going to wake up or if his child would be alright, and doing it all alone were at the forefront of his mind.

Thor should have been there. It was irrational, and Steve was enough of a man to admit that it was, but he couldn't help but feel betrayed every time he saw the other man. Frigga, Sif, even Loki had tried to tell him that Thor would have been there in a moment if he had been able, had the slightest idea of what was going on, but all of their reassurances did nothing to change his feelings.

"Heimdall said he was here? In this neighborhood?" Steve asked, his voice flat as it hit the silence of the car.

"Yes, svass. Something was blocking his sight, a feat few have ever been able to accomplish. Director Fury was able to find the house, the Lady Willow assisted."

Steve growled and clenched his fist at the term of endearment. Svass. Beloved. He was not Thor's beloved anything.

"Thor, I have told you over and over again, do NOT" the car rolled to a stop, and the door was yanked open in one smooth motion, interrupting yet another tired from the American Icon. Coulson stared at the two of them, a warning clearly written on his face, and given they had only known he was alive for a few weeks Steve wasn't willing to push the handler.

"We're here, Captain, Thor." Coulson stepped to the side and Steve climbed out, scratching at the weeks' worth of scruff on his face and making a face. He should have shaved before they did this, he looked like a hobo. "I will remind you that MI6 allowed you onto their turf as a favor, so please do not start any international incidents or… intergalactic incidents." His eyes landed on Thor, and the god looked away quickly. "for that matter. This is a normal neighborhood, and if your son is here, it is very likely he has no idea who or what he is. Keep that in mind gentlemen."

Steve nodded, anything to get closer to Dustin.

"Phil, do you think he's… okay?" Heimdall had several things to say about their son, not all of them encouraging, but if there was anyone that Steve trusted to have solid evidence, it was Phil Coulson. Fury called him his 'One Good Eye' for a reason, the man knew everything and then some.

Coulson looked at him seriously for a few moments, before turning on his heel and marching towards the closest house, Number Four Privet Drive. A blonde housewife, dressed in pearls and a dress that wouldn't have looked out of place seventy years ago, stood with a rather… large boy of about thirteen, loudly telling everyone within earshot that her husband was so good at his job that he was given yet another new car. The boy was… blond, and Steve could see watery blue eyes peering at them from under his mop of hair.

Oh, no.

Surely that couldn't be Dustin. There was nothing of the small baby Steve remembered holding in his arms in the child in front of them. A quick look to his left saw an equal look of horror… and disgust written all over Thor's face before he buried it behind a stoic mask. Tony jokingly called it the 'Prince Thor' look, but Thor never laughed at the joke.

"Mrs. Dursley?" Agent Coulson took the lead, plastering a bland smile on his face and heading towards the woman. He showed no reaction to the child, though it was impossible to miss him. "I am Agent Coulson, with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Department, Shield, may we speak with you?"

"What is this about, Agent Coulson?" asked Mrs. Dursley, putting a maternal hand on her sons shoulder, pulling him close to her body. "Is my husband alright?"

Phil nodded, that same bland smile on his face.

"Yes Mrs. Dursley, your husband is perfectly safe as far as I am aware. We are here about a different matter." He studied the boy, who was staring at Thor with something akin to recognition in his eyes. "is this your son, Mrs. Dursley?"

She nodded, refusing to relax.

"Yes. This is my Dudley. Why?"

Dudley. Dustin.

Oh, god.

"Let me be frank, Mrs. Dursley. Is Dudley your biological child?"

Steve shook his head minutes later, trying to clear his ears of the ringing. Petunia Dursley was still screaming, and Dudley Dursley's voice had joined the din.

He had to say, and he would at great length if he was asked, that he was beyond relieved that Dudley Dursley was not their Dustin. He couldn't imagine his perfect little boy turning into such a spoiled, repulsive brat, no matter who raised him.

"Mummy! Mummy maybe they mean the Freak! He did this!" Dudley said, a cruel smirk on his face as his mother froze and turned towards the house, a dark look on her face.

"Svass, is Freak a common name for children on Midgard?" Thor leaned towards him, scanning their surroundings ever ready for an attack, and Steve could only mutely shake his head. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, instincts honed living on the streets and in the orphanage screaming that something was extremely, incredibly, wrong.

"Boy! Boy get down here!" Petunia was shrieking up the stairs when Steve and Thor, paced by the ever vigilant Agent Coulson, finally made their way into the cookie cutter home. Dudley Dursley was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, stuffing his face with a cookie as large as his head, the cruel smirk still visible.

Whatever was happening in this house, he knew what it was and enjoyed it.

Steve hated bullies, and this boy had bully written all over him. What's worse is his mother very clearly encouraged the behavior.

Even if this 'Freak' wasn't his Dustin, there was no way that Steve was going to leave him to be tormented by this family. It just wasn't going to happen. No child deserved to be treated like they were less than anyone else.

"BOY!" As Mrs. Dursley's shouts increased, Steve's ears picked up light footsteps from upstairs, moving across the floorboards until they stopped at the top.

"Yes Aunt Petunia?" Steve steeled his nerves at the voice, something deep within him singing at hearing it, before he looked up and froze. Thor's hand came down hard on his shoulder, and Steve knew if it wasn't for the Serum that his shoulder would be pulverized under the strength of Thor's grip.

Those eyes. It had been seventy years, and yet not, but Steve would never ever forget those eyes as long as he lived. He had gazed into them the moment he was awake again, his entire body aching in a way that it hadn't since he was injected, and fallen in love so hard he didn't want to remember a time when he hadn't had that perfect little boy.

"Dustin?"

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not having a good summer.<p>

Cleaning up after the Ministry's supreme ignorance in putting Dementors on a school campus filled with minors had taken up every second of his time since school let out. Getting Sirius away from the ministry and settled somewhere safe, and making sure that Harry was as safe as could be in the Dursley household had taken up every other spare moment that he managed to cobble together.

So, he was taking the rare moment he had to lean back in his chair in his office at Hogwarts, nothing to deal with for at least another hour. The portraits of his predecessors were either absent or asleep in their frames, they too seemed to be enjoying the peace that reigned through Hogwarts.

"Albus! Albus Dumbledore!" the fire flaring green, and the panicked voice of the Minister of Magic almost caused Albus to groan, if he hadn't been who he was he would have. So much for peace and quiet.

"Yes Cornelius? What can I do for you today?" The Headmaster plastered a smile on his face, popping a calming draught laced lemon drop into his mouth to combat the agitation he already felt, resigning himself to an afternoon of ministry bureaucracy. Cornelius Fudge, his face rapidly cycling between bright red and moon pale, was wringing his hands around the edge of his bowler hat through the flames.

"Albus, this is a disaster! A complete disaster! Karkaroff is making insane demands that we can't possibly allow, especially given his…associations, and Madame Maxime found out about his demands and are making the same!" Fudge rambled on, getting more and more panicky, "Ludo keeps thinking he can talk them around, but I do not see how he can make it happen."

Albus sighed and stood, his favorite yellow robes falling around him. Clearly this would-be something he would have to handle or Cornelius would send himself into an early grave.

Not the worst of outcomes, if Albus listened to his inner cynic, but not the outcome he needed St the moment. Fudge kept the Wizarding World stable as a whole, and that wasn't something they could give up at the moment.

"Step back Cornelius, I will come through and see if we can calm things down." Giving a last longing look at his chair, a steaming cup of tea still waiting for him to drink. "And do have tea waiting for me Cornelius."

He stepped through the fire, his office staying silent for a few previous moments, before several silver instruments on his desk started to scream, green smoke emitting from them before the smoke quickly turned black and started to fill the room.

It was the most important sign he would ever get, but due to the Ministers incompetence, he wouldn't find out about it until it was too late.

* * *

><p>Harry stared at the two blond men sitting across from him on Aunt Petunia's couch, their sheer bulk making Harry think the poor sofa would give out under them any minute and send them sprawling on the floor.<p>

It would be a welcome distraction to the truth that Harry didn't want to face.

He was the son of Lily and James Potter. That was the one truth he had been able to hold on to his entire life, even when he was constantly being told that they were drunks and wastrel, the one irrefutable fact that he knew.

But now he was being told that it was a lie. That his parents weren't his parents and that he had been left on their doorstep like so much trash.

And now his 'real' parents were back for him, spinning tales that he didn't care about and that he had no interest in hearing.

Because they didn't matter. They weren't true.

His parents were dead, and that was that.

"Dustin?" the smaller, if either of them could be considered small, leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. He stared at Harry with earnest concern written all over his scruffy face. The beard looked almost natural on the larger of the two, but on this guy it looked wrong and sloppy. "Are you ok? I know this is a lot for you to understand."

Harry gave him a glare.

"My name is Harry." Scruffy flinched backwards from the bite in Harry's voice, but recovered quickly. "And I'm fine. I don't believe you anyway."

The taller man, Harry thought he looked very familiar but the name wasn't coming to him, shifted in his seat and frowned.

"Dust… Harry," at least one of them was capable of learning quickly, "we have no desire to harm you, but neither are we lying to you."

"Thor, it's ok. I understand where he's coming from. This is hard for all of us." Harry's jaw dropped.

Thor?

The Thor? Thor, God of Thunder, member of the Avengers Thor?

Now he knew this was a joke. There was no way that he was the son of an alien god, let alone of an alien god and a human man. Was that even possible?

"Steven…" Thor didn't say anything further, settling back into the couch that gave a foreboding groan, crossing his arms over his large chest and fixing Harry with a steel eyed look.

"I believe I can solve this dilemma, and give Harry a little bit more to go on than just our word." The only man to be silent since stepping into the house, Harry almost gave himself whiplash turning to face him. Harry had forgotten that he was even there, and instincts honed from years of running from Dudley and three years of fighting for his life at Hogwarts screamed at him for losing track of his surroundings. His heart was pounding at missing the threat, and he pushed himself back into the back of the couch. The man gave him a small smile, clearly seeing his nerves, and reached out a hand. "Hello Harry, my name is Phil Coulson. I've worked with Thor and Captain America for a while."

Harry shook the offered hand quickly, glad that he hadn't called the two men Harry's parents, or anything of the sort.

"How can you prove it, Phil?" The scruffy one, Captain America apparently and wasn't that an eye opener, stood up and began to pace. "I know it's true, I know he is Dustin, but how can you prove it?" he was agitated, clearing the space between the couch and the side wall in three quick steps before turning and repeating it. Mr. Coulson watched him for a few minutes, before pulling a small black and silver device out of his pocket and touching a few buttons.

"With this. It's a portable DNA scanner, Stark has been working on it since right after New York. It's calibrated for the 'Super Genes' the two of you carry," he coughed, a light blush coating his cheeks as Thor and Captain America gave him a strange look, "Stark's words not mine. Within a few minutes we should have our answers, much quicker than anyone else would be able to give you answers."

Thor stood as well, filling the room until his head almost smacked into the hanging chandelier. Harry bit back a snort as the god gave a sheepish grin and moved carefully out of the way.

"What will this scanner require? I will not allow you to hurt either one of them." His voice rolled through the room, a hint of thunder riding the edge of it like a warning.

Mr. Coulson just looked amused by Thor, ignoring the threat.

"Just a bit of blood from each of you, that's all. Only take a few minutes and then we'll know."

Steve strode forward and held out his hand.

"Do it." Coulson pricked the tip of Steve's finger, using less blood than Harry would have expected to smear on a small bit of metal, feeding the blood into the top of the machine. The machine beeped after a few moments, and Coulson turned to Thor to repeat the process, before turning to Harry himself. Harry hesitated for a few moments, keeping his hand close to his side, before curiosity won out and he held it out for the prick.

The answer didn't matter. He knew who his parents were, and they weren't Thor and Captain America.

They just weren't.

The machine gave a series of three high pitched beeps in rapid succession, prompting Coulson to look at it silently for a few moments. Steve and Thor stared at him, trying to hurry up the results, but Harry just leaned further back into the chair he was sitting in, closing his eyes and waiting.

He didn't care about the results, he didn't, but he couldn't explain the rock that was sitting heavily in his stomach as the seconds ticked by.

"It's conclusive, Harry James Potter is Dustin James Rogers. The DNA is a 99.4 percent match to the two of you. I am assuming the small margin of error is due to Loki's involvement, we weren't sure what his special attributes were going to supply." Coulson stepped back after showing the results to both blonds, leaving Harry as the sole focus of their attention.

He didn't move, and didn't speak.

This changed nothing, nothing was different. His parents were still his parents no matter what the bloody reading said.

He didn't have to change who he was, and he wasn't going to.

Steve stepped towards him, a deep emotion written all over his face and in his eyes that Harry refused to give a name to, reaching out to touch him like he would disappear if he didn't clutch on to him. Thor didn't look too far behind, and Harry's breathing began to pick up.

He had never been touched much by the adults in his life. Mrs. Weasley gave him hugs that he thought would smother him, but she had too many of her own children to be focused completely on him. The teachers had too many students under their care to give more than a pat on the back for a job well done, and even that was an infrequent occurrence. The Dursley's…they touched him as little as possible and that was the way that he liked it, thank you very much.

The idea of having two men who were insisting on tearing his entire world apart touching him, was making his heart race faster and his breathing become shorter. Each breath was getting less and less oxygen into his lungs and he felt himself become lightheaded.

"Dustin, it's okay. Just breathe, buddy. You're okay, you're just fine." Words were reaching him from far away, a hand rubbing over his sternum until it was all he could focus on, slowly bringing him back to the reality around him. "That's it, good job. Keep breathing."

Harry opened eyes he hadn't even been aware closed, Steve's worried blue eyes the first thing that came into focus around him. He was the one talking, his hand still rubbing over Harry's chest.

"What happened?" Harry croaked, wetting his lips. Steve's lip lifted in a half smile, still looking worried.

"Looks like you had a panic attack, bud." Steve said, sympathetic but not unsurprised. Harry thought it over, he had never had a panic attack before, and he was fairly positive that he didn't want to have one again. That had not been fun, and his head still didn't feel like it was quite attached to his body.

"Is he well, Svass?" Thor appeared over Steve's shoulder, leaning towards Harry who just stared at him. He had never heard that word before, and by the look on Steve's face it wasn't necessarily a good one.

"He'll be fine, Thor. I think everything just overwhelmed him."

They were talking like he wasn't there, and it was beginning to annoy him.

"I want him out of my house." Steve and Thor froze at the sound of Aunt Petunia's voice, and Harry clenched his eyes shut, groaning.

He knew this was coming, if there was any way that Petunia was able to get rid of him she would take it. If it wasn't for what the neighbors would think he was positive she would have thrown him out years ago. Now that he had supposed parents who could take him in, he knew that she wouldn't keep him in the house.

Not when he could be someone else's problem.

Harry floated for a while, listening to the raging conversations taking place over his head, not caring what the outcome would be,

He didn't have any choice either way, what did it matter if he objected or not?

"Harry?" Coulson asked, pulling Harry from his daze and he glared at the man. "Where are your things?"

Harry pointed mutely towards the cupboard under the stairs, Uncle Vernon having locked his school trunk up once again the moment he arrived home from Hogwarts, and pulled himself up off the couch with effort. "I'll clean out my room."

He started up the stairs wondering if he would be allowed to keep Hedwig, or if he would have to get rid of anything that reminded him of his previous life. Heavy footsteps joined him when he was halfway up the stairs, and a quick glance over his shoulder showed Thor following him closely.

Harry faced forward and refused to talk, heading towards the smallest bedroom and yanking the door open. Thor didn't follow him in, standing by the door and staring at it like he had never seen anything like it before.

Harry removed the few things he was able to keep in his room and stuffed them in a plastic bag he had been able to scrounge from the kitchen when Petunia wasn't looking. Crossing the room to Hedwig's cave, he whispered for her to find him when she could, and let her fly out the window.

"Is that everything?" Harry nodded to the question, grabbing Hedwig's cage and moving back towards the door. Thor took it without a word, glaring once more at the door and steering harry down the stairs at a fair clip, muttering under his breath in a language Harry couldn't understand.

"Steven, we are leaving. I will not stay in this… house a moment longer." Thunder rumbled overhead, lightening flashing in the previously clear blue sky, dark storm clouds rolling in faster than Harry had ever seen.

Steve nodded tersely glaring at the crying form of Aunt Petunia huddling in the couch, Dudley stuck to her side white as a sheet. Steve bent down and shouldered Harry's trunk, not even grunting at the weight. Agent Coulson was holding the door open, a dark look on his face, waiting for them all to leave.

"Harry, go ahead. I will have a word with your previous guardians." The look on Thor's face told Harry that arguing was not a good idea and he left as quickly as he could, joining the other two men on the sidewalk. He stood apart from them as they all waited, Steve trying several times to strike up a conversation, that Harry ignored.

The thunder boomed louder as Thor stepped outside the door, the god looking up at the sky with a look of concentration on his face before stepping away.

And then it happened.

A bolt of lightning came shooting out of the sky, so bright that Harry had to look away, impacting Number Four Privet Drive with a loud snap and a boom of thunder that shook the very ground underneath Harry. With a scream, Petunia and Dudley came running out of the house just as the roof caught on fire, the house going up quickly in flames.

People streamed from neighboring homes, pointing and calling to each other as the house burned and Petunia continued to scream.

Thor ushered them towards the government car, a satisfied look on his face as Steve and Coulson stared at him with open mouths and shocked faces.

Coulson finally got his wits about him and glared at the god who was the closing the car door behind all of them.

"Thor. What part of not causing an intergalactic incident did you not understand?"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN-This chapter is a little shorter, but chapter four should follow in a few days so hopefully its not too short! **

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews!**

**Disclaimer-I still own nothing. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made**.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

_Brooklyn, New York_

_April 17__th__, 1943_

"Hey! Leave her alone!" Steve Rogers yelled pushing his body into a run as much as he could, the threat of an asthma attack burning in his lungs with every step he took into the grubby alley.

He didn't care. He couldn't walk away from the woman being attacked by three men four times her size and live with himself afterwards. He may get beaten into the ground, but if she could get away every bruise would be more than worth it. "I said leave her alone!"

Steve reached the group, growling when he fully saw the poor woman struggling in the arms of two brutes with tears streaming down her face. Yanking on the largest man's arm Steve put his whole weight into turning him around, grunting with the effort.

"Scram, Pipsqueak." The monster of a man threw Steve off with little effort, sending him to the ground with a shove of his arm before turning back to the terrified woman, licking his lips as he looked at her.

"Sorry, I can't do that. Just let the lady go and we'll all walk away." Steve pushed himself to his feet and squared himself. He didn't have Bucky's strength, but Bucky had always made sure Steve knew how to throw a punch and keep himself alive as long as possible. The man paused, his buddies beginning to laugh drunkenly as he turned around and stared at Steve. His fists were clenched at his sides, and Steve could tell that they were going to smart when they landed on his face, but he wasn't going to back down.

"Help me please." The woman sobbed, throwing herself backwards trying to escape her captors' grips, but it was no use. Dumb they may be but they weren't giving her a chance to get away. "Please!"

Steve sighed and smiled at her.

"Don't worry ma'am, you're going to be ok." Steve said, keeping an eye on the lunk in front of him.

"Now kid, don't to making promises you can't keep." The lunk cracked his knuckles and took a step towards Steve, grabbing him by the shirt and lifting him a foot off the asphalt. "I'm gonna take care of you, and then the little lady and I will have ourselves a time."

Steve gathered himself with his heart pounding in his chest, and swung with everything he had. His fist glanced off the bruisers chin, Steve's knuckles smarting from the impact. The thug's head barely twitched as Steve impacted, but he did give a growl, pulling his fist back and retaliating quickly.

The impact made Steve's ears ring, blood pouring down his chin from his split lip. He would have a bruise tomorrow, but he wasn't going to stop. The bruisers fist impacted again while he was disoriented and his shirt ripped as he fell towards the ground, his back hitting the ground and knocking all the air from his lungs.

"Just let the lady go." He wheezed, glaring up at the other man who just looked at him for a few seconds and turned back to the still crying woman, reaching out to rip her shirt. Steve started picking himself up off the ground, determined to keep fighting until he couldn't anymore or they let the woman go, but another figure stepped in front of him. Steve stared at his broad back, muscles stretching the material they were stuffed in, blond hair pulled into a tail at the base of his neck.

"I think you should do as he says and let the lass go, friend." The stranger said, his accent different and hard for Steve to place. It sent a shiver down his body, and Steve fought back the blush hoping that no one noticed. "Now."

The thug laughed, looking back at his friends who suddenly didn't look as confident as they had moments before.

"Mike, maybe we should just let this one go. She ain't worth it man." Thug two said, still holding tightly onto the woman's arm, but his eyes were searching around for an easy exit from the situation. "Come on."

Thug three was nodding frantically along with his friend, but Mike just scowled.

"No. This bitch..." he tried to start but the stranger was moving before he could finish his sentence.

Steve could only gape as he watched the three goons go down in a matter of seconds. He had been in plenty of fights, but he had never seen anyone move that quickly. Ever. No movement was wasted, and every hit counted.

"Are you alright, friend?" Steve blinked, trying to pick his jaw up off the ground as the stranger spoke to him, a hand outstretched to help Steve off the ground.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine." The woman was still crying, but she ran in the opposite direction away from them. Steve sighed and hoped she got home safer than she did before. "Thank you. For your help I mean."

The stranger laughed, his blue eyes crinkled.

"I have no doubt you would have come out victorious, friend, you have heart. I am Thor, and it was an honor to fight beside you." Steve didn't think he had fought much at his side, but he would take the compliment.

"I'm Steve. Steve Rogers. It's nice to meet you Thor."

* * *

><p>"Steven? Are you well?" Steve blinked and looked away from Dustin's sleeping face, taking the cup of coffee the Thunderer handed him with a small smile of thanks. "You looked far away from here."<p>

"I was just remembering when we met." Steve took a long gulp of his coffee, cursing as the heat burned his tongue. "Strange to think it was so long ago."

Thor nodded and settled into the bench seat of the Quintet, casting a close eye over Dustin's sleeping form before moving his stare back to Steve.

"Not that long ago, Svass. How is Harry?" The word flowed off his tongue and Steve clenched his fist without thinking. "I thought he would awaken when we boarded."

"His name is Dustin, Thor. Harry Potter doesn't exist, he is Dustin James Rogers" Thor blinked at the vehemence in his tone, leaning away and sipping his own coffee.

"Svass… Steven. Harry has lived his life as Harry James Potter, you cannot expect him to accept his true identity just on our word." Thor looked like a man who had seem millennia pass him by as he stared at Steve, blue eyes serious. "He will come to know himself as Dustin" the name was awkward on his tongue, "Thorson in time."

Steve bared his teeth in a savage grin. How dare he try to claim Dustin as his? He hadn't carried him for nine months, hadn't held him as he cried the first time. He had done nothing but contribute DNA.

"Rogers, Thor, Dustin Rogers. That is the name on his birth certificate, and that is what he will stay." That got a response, Thor slamming the cup of coffee down on the bench beside him, glaring at Steve.

"It is you who hid him from me, and convinced my brother to do the same. He is as much my son as yours, Steven, and you will not keep him from me."

The two would have continued to glare at each other, tempers running high and thunder booming outside the plane, if wasn't for the dark chuckle coming from the back of the plane. Mjolnir was in Thor's hand in the blink of an eye, Steve's shield held at the ready as they both stood in front of Dustin, ready to stop any threat that came at them.

Loki just laughed again as he came out of the darkness, looking better than he had when the two left Asgard to travel to England. His face was less gaunt, and his green eyes were clear for the first time since falling through the veil. Odin and Frigga had still been working to wash the last bits of Thanos the Mad Titan from the Prince of Asgard's mind when they left, and it looked like they had finally succeeded.

"Captain… Brother." The word was strangled, but Thor's face lit up like the Rockefeller Plaza at Christmas hearing it, the Thunder God swarming forward to wrap the God of Lies in a hug. "Easy, Thor. I do still need to breathe, clear minded or no."

Thor let go with a sheepish grin, but clapped a hand to his brother's shoulder and kept him close as the two gods neared Dustin and Steve again.

"Apologies Brother, I am just heartened to see you hale again!" Thor grinned at Loki, looking a lot like the golden retriever Clint and Tony often compared him to. Steve didn't find the situation nearly as happy. Loki helped them, yes, but he was the one who put Dustin in that situation in the first place.

All of this was his fault.

"I see you found my nephew." Loki stepped closer to Dustin sleeping in the bench, studying him with narrowed eyes and Steve twitched to get in between them but held himself back. Loki wasn't a threat at the moment, but Steve would be prepared if that changed. "The glamour will have to be removed of course."

Thor and Steve blinked a few times in silence before looking at each other.

"Glamour? I know he doesn't look anything like what I expected, but I assumed it had to do with how he got here." The glare Steve shot at Loki said everything that needed to be said about the spell. "Who else could have put a glamour on him?" Steve wasn't even sure what a glamour was, but he had a vague idea.

Loki glared back at him.

"There is more on your Earth than can be explained by your science and technology, Captain. While none of your sorcerers can match my own powers, they are there. And it seems nephew mine can be counted among them" Loki's voice said just how little he respected the magic users on Earth, disdain dripping from his tone.

Thor crossed his arms over his chest, looking at his brother seriously.

"Do you think someone did it intentionally to hide him from our sight?" Thor asked, "Could it be what interfered with Heimdall finding him?"

Loki shook his head, and Steve felt like he had wandered into one of the foreign films that Pepper and Natasha loved to watch. They were speaking English, but it was an English that meant nothing to Steve, and it was beginning to aggravate him.

"Possibly, but nothing native to this realm would be powerful enough to hide from his sight for long. I can only do it so long before his gaze finds me, and I do not sense anyone more powerful than me nearby." He straightened his shoulders and popped his neck, the most human Steve had ever seen him act. It was disconcerting. "I will release the glamour and his true form should break any other spells on his person." Thor nodded, the only permission Loki seemed to need, and the younger god stepped forward the few steps separating him from Dustin, placing a slender hand on the boy's forehead.

Steve tensed and Thor stepped closer to him, but whether it was for comfort or to stop Steve from reacting if something went wrong, Steve couldn't tell.

The most notable change was his hair, the messy black hair morphing to a rich golden-blonde with a light curl to it. His chin lost its sharpness and developed a slight cleft while his jaw widened, growing firmer and more defined. His entire facial shape altered, growing more solid and masculine like his parents'. Steve's artist's eye picked up the similarities between Dustin and himself, though he was disappointed to see that the boy took more after Thor than he did Steve himself. It was petty, but Steve supposed every parent hoped that their child took after them as much as they could. The jaw, eyebrows, and nose were obviously from him, but he could also see a heavy amount of Thor.

Dustin was everything and nothing like what Steve had expected, and he found himself soaking in every bit of the boy that he could as he knelt next to the bench Dustin was stretched out on, .

"He looks like you," Steve choked out as Thor joined him next to the bench, the god's hand gently tracing Dustin's features with the tip of a large finger. "I didn't expect that."

Thor didn't say anything for a few minutes, and Steve glanced at him. There was an awed look on Thor's face as he stared down at Dustin, and the possessive monster in Steve reared up. He wanted to hide Dustin away where no one else would be able to get him, where no one else would be able to hurt him.

"Harry favors you as well, svass. He is perfect. He has my mother's curls, she will be pleased to see that when we arrive back on Asgard." Thor said, still petting Dustin's face, but Steve froze.

What?

"Steven." Loki warned from behind the two of them, his voice low in an attempt to keep from waking Dustin, but Steve didn't pay him any mind.

"I am not taking him back to Asgard, Thor. That is out of the question." Steve stood to his feet, not knowing why he was reacting this way but unable to help it. All his life he prided himself on his control, on keeping himself together no matter what was going on around him. Since Dustin was placed in his arms that control had flown out the window, and Steve didn't know how to get it back. Or if he even wanted to. "He is staying here with me."

Thor narrowed his eyes and stood as well, taller than Steve by a few inches and using every inch of it to his advantage.

"Steven, he is my son. I see now you wish he were not, but he is, and I have as much right to him as you do. Asgard is his heritage, he may one day rule the Realm Eternal, and you will not change that."

"Steven, Brother." Loki stepped in between the two, trying to be the voice of reason but Steve and Thor were far too gone to listen.

"You have no claim to him. You weren't there for any of it, and I keep telling you that. You left us, and now you just want to waltz back into our lives like nothing ever happened?" Steve suddenly had the feeling that they were arguing about something completely different than Dustin, but he didn't care. "You don't get to do that. You didn't care then, you don't care now."

Thor looked stricken, his anger flooding away like a receding river.

"Svass, I did not want to leave you, you have to know that. I had no choice, my father needed me for war. If I had known…" Steve cut him off, tired of the excuses.

"If you had known about Dustin, you would have stayed? Is that what you were going to say?" Steve ignored the stab of hurt that hit him at the thought.

"Steve that is not what I meant!"

"Yes it is! I wasn't enough for you to stay! And that's fine! But I am not going to let you get Dustin's hopes up and then leave him too." His words hit the air and the Quinjet went silent, Thor staring at him with wide eyes while Loki stepped away from them with his hands held high in the air.

"Steven I…" Thor cut himself off as movement from behind them came to their ears, Dustin beginning to stir. Steve immediately abandoned the fight, ignoring Thor and his apologies in favor of his son.

Dustin came first and that was all that there was to it. Steve sank down on the bench and began carding a hand through curly blond hair.

"What are you doing?" Dustin's voice was hoarse as his eyes flickered open fully, Steve getting one full look at his son as he should have always looked, before his features began to change and ripple in the opposite direction. Within minutes, Dustin was hidden and Steve was staring at the face of Harry Potter.

"Loki, what just happened?" Steve turned to the God of Lies for answers, but Loki was staring at Dustin with a chagrined look on his face.

"Well. I was afraid that might happen."

* * *

><p>Frigga, Queen of Asgard, knew that she was in for a lot after the birth of her son and her husband bringing a baby Jotun home from War. She knew, and she didn't care. From the moment she held both of her boys she knew that they were hers and she would do anything to protect them.<p>

The pranks she was ready for. The endless fights and breaking of relics, the nightmares, and watching both of her boys march off to war at their father's command she had been prepared for.

Watching her son dragged chained and muzzled like an unruly dog into the All Father's throne room by her eldest child after he orchestrated the deaths of thousands of those Asgard had long sworn to protect from the other realms, seeing the heartbreak in the mortal Steven Rogers' eyes as he spoke about the son he had born to her oldest child and then lost, hearing that Loki himself had been the cause of both birth and (supposed) death of her only grandchild, these were things she was not prepared for.

Frigga did not think any mother could ever be prepared for the horrors their child could commit in anger. Knowing that these horrors were committed under the terrible influence of an ancient evil… somehow made it all worse. Frigga sighed as she looked out over the Realm Eternal, the sun reflecting off the gleaming walls, and reached for the wine goblet sitting closely at her elbow.

How was she supposed to keep her family together now? Loki was freed from Thanos' influence, though he would still face punishment for his attack on Midgard. Thor and Steven were on the trail of her grandson, but Frigga was no fool. She knew that the bonds of family had been bent almost to breaking, and she didn't know how to pull them back together. Thor's heir should be happy news, shouted to the ends of the nine realms and beyond, instead it was hidden and tucked away.

"You are displeased with me." Odin said from behind her, his loyal ravens flying over her head to roost on a neighboring awning. Frigga did not turn to face him, anger still coursing through her as she recalled his treatment of their children.

"Does that surprise you, my king?" Frigga asked rhetorically, smiling gently as a little girl in a red gown ran underneath the balcony, turning to wave and curtsy at the Queen. One of Thor's never ending worshippers, though Frigga was gratified to see an equal number of green cloaks and cloth banners in the group the child was heading for. Loki would never believe it, but her son was as loved among the people as Thor was, he just refused to see it.

"No, it does not Frigga." Odin sighed and joined her at the balcony, watching their subjects go about their lives in silence. "I have no excuses, neither as father nor as king. But my decision stands."

Frigga whirled on him, calm demeanor shattering with the force of her rage.

"He is your Son!" the Queen growled, "How can you stand there knowing what you know, and condemn him to death? He Fell, Odin, he Fell through the Void! Is it a sign of weakness that he was unable to fight Thanos' off? And your grandson! No matter how he came to be, he is your blood. Your son's heir, and you care not!" Chest heaving, Frigga turned away from him, unable to stand looking at him.

"Loki must pay for his transgressions, Frigga, I will always do as I can to protect him but Asgard is not the only realm involved anymore. Jotenheim and Midgard both cry for his blood, how am I to appease them? And Thor's son? A son he had no knowledge of due to Loki's trickery, born to a mortal. Why invite him here, encourage Thor to become close, knowing that he will meet his end on a mortal lifespan? I would save our son from the pain of losing a child if I can at all prevent it."

Frigga clenched her fists at the reminder of her lost child, her shining one.

"You will not deny Thor his son. I will now allow it Odin." Frigga moved past him, her gown sweeping the cobblestones beneath her, leaving Odin gazing over his kingdom.

She was not sure what she was going to do, defying a command given by the All Father was not an easy task even for members of his family, but she could not take away the joy that shown in Thor's eyes when he told her about his son, joy replacing the sorrow that enveloped him when they thought the boy was dead.

Frigga would not watch her family be torn apart a second time.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is a much shorter chapter than the others, I just couldn't find a way to extend it without it dragging, so apologies for it not being the normal length. **

**I had several people that were concerned by the way Steve is acting, rightfully, so I hope this chapter begins to put a little bit of that to rest, I do have a method to my madness. **

**Disclaimer-I still own nothing, No copyright infringement is intended or implied. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

Phil Coulson enjoyed being the Avengers Handler, no matter how much he bitched about them to Nick after hours in the dark of the hellicarrier. He saw more amazing (and insane) things in a week working with the superheroes than he did in a month with Sector Seven. He wouldn't change his job for the world, though he would appreciate it if Stark and Banner tried to blow up the Tower a little less.

However right now, seeing his idol Captain America try to convince his son to eat more dinner, a dinner the Captain spent almost an hour scrounging up from the jets supply of MRE's that no one would want to eat more of, he wondered what the hell his life was. Superheroes were one thing; gods, magical beings, and time-travelling babies were another. To be perfectly honest Coulson felt out of his depth. The way that the Super-Soldier hovered around the boy, the way he snapped at Thor... it didn't seem quite _right_. The Captain America from before was calm, level-headed, and empathetic. This version seemed to have lost self-control.

By all accounts, the Steve Rogers he had read about, the Captain America that he idolized, would be all about making sure Harry Potter was happy and content, not trying to force him into being the Dustin Rogers he was at birth. The Captain wasn't acting like the Captain, and that was going to be a large problem.

"This is Coulson, out me through to the Director. We have a code nine." Coulson slipped into the cockpit, the doors sliding smoothly shut once he was through them. The pilot gave him a nod, turning back to his instruments without further notice blocking out Coulson's conversation with ease.

"Cheese, you better be pulling my leg." Nick's voice filled his ears and Coulson grimaced. He hated that damn name, but Nick never stopped using it. Coulson was sure it was revenge of some sort, but he could never figure out exactly what the revenge was for, and he doubted that he ever would. "A code nine? We came up with that as a last resort, I have seen no indication it would even apply!"

Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning under his breath. He knew this was going to happen.

"Director, please just have code nine protocols in place when we land, you'll have all the proof you need when you see him." With a few more blusters from the Director that Coulson knew was all for show, Coulson got his way and hung up gratefully.

"I see I am not the only one who thinks the good Captain is…not himself" the voice came from behind him, and Coulson just barely stopped himself from going for his gun as he jumped from his seat and turned to face the god.

Loki was not a threat, not now, no matter how much Coulson felt he should be.

"What do you know?" Coulson's voice was calm, despite his racing heart and the sweat beading on his brow. The god had apologized, at great length, for stabbing him. For killing him. And while Coulson knew that it wasn't all Loki on the other side of that spear, he couldn't help the terror and adrenaline that flooded his body every time Loki came close to him.

Coulson didn't like not being in control.

"Nothing definite at this point, Agent Coulson. Steven's aura is…clouded. There is some outside influence, but I am unable to detect what they may be. Without a deeper scan that I will not do without his consent," the God of Lies looked uncomfortable, his hands clasped behind his back, and Coulson's eyes narrowed.

"What aren't you telling me? You know something else." It was a statement of fact and the god gave a small quirk of his lips that could have been considered a smile on anyone else.

"Your ability to read me is a source of amazement, Agent Coulson. Not many others have the skill." He stepped closer, ignoring the pilot behind them that put a hand to the butt of this gun until Loki paced beyond his reach, "The magic I did to…encourage….the birth of my nephew, may have had unintended consequences. Males carrying young has never been the way of the realms, and in forcing the condition I may have altered more of the Captains' biology than I intended."

Coulson's eyebrow raised of its own accord.

"You think you may have altered him? I'd say he's been more than altered, Loki. The question is, how the hell are we going to fix it?"

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you don't want anything else?" Steve asked, twisting his hands together. Dustin or Harry or whatever he hadn't eaten even half of what Steve had put on the plate in front of him, and all Steve could think was how starved the boy looked with his true self had been revealed. He was so thin, not even half the weight he probably should be, and Steve wasn't sure how he was going to manage to build the boy back up.<p>

Steve knew what it felt like to starve, to feel a hunger deep in your gut that never completely went away with the little bit of food you were able to find. He knew how much it hurt, to watch others able to eat and know that would never be you.

He never wanted his son to feel that hunger, and he would spend the rest of his life making it up to Dustin. He would, and that was a promise.

"I'm sure." Dustin, Harry, pushed the plate away with a hand, pushing himself back against the wall of the Quinjet as far away from Steve and Thor as he was able to get, eyeing them both with distrust and a little bit of fear. That fear cut Steve to the core. His son, his baby boy, wasn't supposed to fear him, and it made him want to go and show everyone who had ever put that fear in the boy's eyes exactly why it was a bad idea to piss off Captain America.

"The pilot has said we will be landing soon, we should all prepare." Loki said, emerging from the cockpit followed by Agent Coulson, Phil, clear space between the two men. Steve didn't blame the handler, he wouldn't want to be close to the man that killed him either.

Sure enough, the jet began to descend, the trip having gone faster than even Steve thought was possible, and Harry sat up. His eyes darted nervously around the jet, but he pulled back from the hand that Thor put out to help steady him. Steve tried not to feel happy that even Thor wasn't able to get through to the boy, and kids loved Thor. Mostly, there were a few who ran screaming thinking they were going to eat him.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, holding onto the edges of the bench with a white knuckled grip. He was nervous, and Steve wondered if it was just the situation he had found himself in or if he was always a nervous flier. He wanted to know everything about the boy, absolutely everything that he could.

"New York City, Stark Tower to be precise." Loki answered, leaning around Steve to see his nephew. Steve tried not to jump and see the other man as a threat, telling himself that he was being ridiculous. "I believe that is where the three of you will be staying until other arrangements are made."

Steve shook his head.

"We'll be going back to my apartment, as soon as I can manage it. We are not staying with Tony any longer than we have to."

Harry blinked, looking between all of them, and frowned.

"Wait, New York? In America? Why am I going to America?" He was upset, and Steve reached out to soothe him this time, the boy wrenching himself away before Steve could make contact and glaring at them all. "I want to go home."

"Yes, America. We couldn't leave you in England, Dust...Harry." Steve caught himself mid sentence, hating the way the new name tasted in his mouth but hating the look of rage on boy's face even more, "You don't belong there."

That...was apparently the wrong thing to say. Harry's face darkened, and he straightened himself up as much as he was able, throwing everything he had into the glare he directed straight at Steve.

"It is my home. I have friends, I have school, I belong there way more than I ever will in the States. Take. Me. Back."

Steve's eyes narrowed. Upset or not, he wasn't going to let any child, let alone his child, speak to an adult like that. It was disrespectful and rude, and he just wasn't going to have it.

"No. And you are being very rude." Ok, so he wasn't the best at this whole parenting thing, but he wasn't going to be like so many other parents that did nothing but scream and berate their children until they got what they wanted. Dustin was thirteen, he was old enough to understand how he was acting was wrong. "I understand you are upset, I get that, but there is no excuse for how you are acting."

The Quinjet went quiet, and Thor's eyes widened as he looked between the two of them, watching the anger that slowly filled Harry's face.

"I'm being rude? I'm the one being rude? You're the one who stormed into my house, told me everything I have ever thought is a lie, and then forced me onto a plane because you wanted me here! I don't want to be here, and I don't want to be with you. My Father is James Potter, not you, and you'll never be." Harry's chest was heaving with his breathing when he finished his speech, his face splotched with color as his eyes watered, but Steve forced himself not to react.

The words hurt, he felt them like a knife to the heart, but he didn't let it show. He knew the truth, he knew that the angry boy across from him was his son, Harry would accept it soon enough. He just had to keep pushing through.

"We'll discuss this on the ground, gentlemen, when we are all a little bit calmer." Coulson was, as always, the voice of reason. "Harry, I know you are upset but if you would try to stay calm just a little bit longer I would greatly appreciate it."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it and settled back just as the jet began descending towards the tarmac, pushing them all back in their seats.

Seems the pilot was as much of a fan of repulsor tech as Steve himself was. It was nice to feel that something's hadn't changed too terribly since he went under the ice.

Landing went smoothly, and quicker than Steve had anticipated. Harry was bundled up and off the jet by Thor who still didn't trust the jets as far as he could throw them and would have much preferred to fly their son back himself, despite Harry's loud and varied complaints. Steve came off a little slower, letting Coulson and Loki go ahead of him, the feeling of danger making him wish he brought the shield.

"Captain? I need you to follow us." Steve turned towards the voice of Jasper Sitwell, frowning as the Avenger's secondary handler came into view. "Please."

The dozen armed guards and Black Widow waiting in the wings told him that it was in no way a request.

He would be going with them whether he wanted to or not, the only question that he had to answer was how many people he was willing to put in the hospital or in the ground in his attempt to not follow them.

Dustin's eyes boring into his back made up his mind. He was not going to make the boy watch him injure a dozen men (and possibly get beaten by Natasha, he wasn't sure who would win that fight) only to be dragged off in the end anyway. If he wanted to be a parent, if he wanted to be an example that Dustin could look up to and follow, he would start now.

"Sure, Jasper."

* * *

><p>Tony Stark stared at the midget across from him, refusing to look away.<p>

This...was the son of Steve Rogers, better known as Capscicle, and Thor, Lord of all that goes Boom?

He was nothing like what Tony thought he was going to be. No blond hair, no blue eyes, no...overly beefy form that made all lesser mortals drool in shame, it was a travesty. Loki had to be playing a prank, he had to be.

"I don't believe it." Tony said, leaning back in his seat and deliberately looking away from the kid. He didn't lose, he chose to give in before he embarrassed a thirteen year old. That's all it was, he was saving the kids pride. And he would keep telling himself that until he believed it. "I just don't believe it."

"It's true, Stark. This is Dustin James Rogers. I did the test twice, unless you are saying that your tech is faulty?" Tony leaned over the back of the chair he was sitting in and glared at Agent.

"My tech is never faulty. Everything I make always works."

"Toaster." came from his left, cleverly disguised as a cough by their resident birdbrain and Tony transferred his glare to the archer.

"Hey, that toaster worked exactly like I wanted it to. It toasted things, didn't it?" Ok so it toasted toast and everything else that came close to it, but still. It toasted things and that's what it was made for. His tech was not faulty.

"Stark, that is the Captain and Thor's son. Now stop being you and go do something productive. Or do I have to call Pepper?" The threat was clear and Tony grumbled under his breath as he pushed himself to his feet. He was still paying for that twelve percent comment, he didn't want to add anything else on top of the wrath of Pepper.

"I'm not, you know." Tony turned towards the British voice, still getting a kick out of Captain American having a kid that wasn't born on the land he loved so much, and raised an eyebrow at the kid.

"You're not what, kid? You're not Superman? I think that's okay, your old men have that taken care of."

Harry frowned at him, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.

"I'm not their son. You're right, I'm not." Tony scoffed. If his tech confirmed it, then it was true.

"Yeah you are kid, my tech doesn't lie. But hey!" He grinned, enjoying himself, "If someone pisses you off, at least you know Thor will burn down their house for you!"

Thor growled from behind him, already pushed beyond his limits of the joke and Tony decided that leaving now would be the better part of keeping his ass in one piece and quickly headed towards the elevator that would take him to the Workshop levels.

Looks like the Super Family had some issues to work out, and he wanted to be no where near them while it happened.

Malibu was nice this time of year, maybe he would relocate. Yeah, that sounded like a plan.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you for all you reviews, though I do need to remind you that the original idea wasn't mine; I am just using it. It belong to njchrispatrick.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

"RONALD WEASLEY!" Ron hunkered his shoulder as his mum's shriek echoed throughout the Burrow, but he didn't move from his bed. If she really wanted him, she would come and find him. He would hear about it either way, and he couldn't be bothered to get up at the moment.

He stared at the mail order catalog in front of him, flipping idly through it as he tried to make a decision. He could order something for Harry's birthday, using the little bit of pocket money he was able to save from what Dad and Bill and Charlie sent to him throughout the year, but that would cut into his savings for a new broom so...he didn't know what to do.

Ron hated that he had to choose, if he was Harry he would be able to get presents for the entire Tower and have plenty of money left over to buy a new broom. Everyone knew that Potter family, as one of the Ancient and Noble Houses, was loaded. And it had to have only grown since Harry's parents died. It just wasn't fair, that someone who worked as hard as Arthur Weasley did had nothing to show for it, and a thirteen year old had more money than he could spend in four lifetimes.

And didn't even seem to know about it.

Ron knew what things cost, he was painfully aware that when the prices of things went up, the amount his family was able to afford went down. He knew that corned beef was the best his mother could put together for them for the train ride, and he knew that it upset her that he couldn't stand it.

He knew it all.

But Harry Bloody Potter never had to worry about that. His relatives, bars on the windows or not, didn't have to worry about buying food. His whale of a cousin proved that.

Why couldn't he help them, just a little bit? Ron and Hermione were dragged into his schemes and almost died every year, weren't they owed something? Weren't they?

Ron tossed the magazine away from him, the pages fluttering free from the binding as it slammed into the wall and glared into nothing.

"RONALD WEASLEY GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!" Molly Weasley's voice echoed throughout the house again, louder and angrier and Ron finally hopped off the bed. He knew what that voice meant; it meant an hour of standing with his nose in the corner and then outside for the rest of the afternoon to de-gnome the garden.

Ron hated de-gnoming the garden, the little blighters loved biting onto the end of his nose and refusing to let go.

Taking the steps two at a time, Ron almost fell into the living room, tripping over one of Ginny's Teen Witches Weekly issues on the way. His mum was standing in front of Professor Dumbledore and she gave him a dirty look. Knowing his luck, he was going to end up de-gnoming the garden anyway.

"Ronald, The Headmaster has a few questions he needs to ask you, and don't you dare lie to him." Molly said, even though it was normally a warning she gave to the twins or Charlie, and Ron nodded. "Good lad."

Professor Dumbledore smiled at him, the normal twinkle that was in his eyes from his power being held back(or that's what his mother always told him when he was little and wondered why the old man's eyes looked so strange) missing as he stared at the redhead.

"Mr. Weasley, have you heard from Mr. Potter since the term ended?" The Headmaster's voice was soft, and Ron swallowed heavily. Something had happened, something bad, something very bad.

Ron shook his head.

"No sir. The last I saw him was on the platform, when he met his relatives. I haven't heard from him since then." He said, shifting from foot to foot, his toe poking out of the hole in his left sock and hitting the inside of his sneaker, he would have to have his mom fix them as soon as he could, "Hermione may have, I know she normally does."

Harry had better be okay. Ron didn't like a lot about him, but Harry was still his best mate.

"Did Harry say anything to you about leaving his relatives? Or about being in contact with someone new?"

The questions made no sense. Harry always talked about leaving his relatives, at least when the three of them were buried in a corner of the common room, the rest of the Tower asleep or out. Everyone knew he didn't like the Muggles, though he never said why, the Headmaster shouldn't have to ask about that.

"He always talks about wanting to leave, but he's never had a plan or a way, and I don't think the Mugg.." he caught his mother's sharp glare and corrected himself, "the Dursley's would let him leave very easily."

Or at all, Ron's mind kept going back to the bars that had been on Harry's window the summer before second year, almost two years ago now. The Dursley's didn't seem to want to let Harry go anywhere.

"The Dursley's home was burned to the ground three days ago, Mr. Weasley, and the Dursley's have a strange story about Harry disappearing with two men, and a lightning strike. I'm afraid that Harry may have been coerced to leave his relatives. If you hear from him my boy, please let me know at once. We have to find Mr. Potter before the wrong people do."

Ron sank into a chair as his mum talked to the Headmaster more, burying his head in his hands.

Harry was missing? The Dursley's house burned?

Ron hoped that Harry was okay.

He was the Boy Who Lived.

They needed him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Brooklyn, New York<strong>_

_**May 10th, 1943**_

_Steve shifted in his seat, not used to the plush backing, trying not to stare at the man across from him too obviously._

_Thor was still as huge, as strange, as...foreign as he had been the day they met, the taller blond running to the rescue like a knight in shining armor._

_But Steve loved being in his company. Steve loved explaining things like baseball, and what guy didn't know about baseball? He loved how Thor never took his size as a slight against him, treating him just like everyone else, like he was worth something._

_Even when he was bent over, trying to pull air into his lungs, Thor never laughed. He merely sat there, large hand on his shoulder, until the attack ended._

_Only Bucky had done that before, and even Bucky had moments where it was too much for him to handle and he had to disappear until it was over, not that Steve blamed him at all._

_But Thor never left, Thor stayed until he was breathing normally again, and then pulled him back to whatever they had been doing before._

_Everything was always so...normal._

_Until now._

_Now Steve couldn't sit still._

_And Thor didn't seem to notice his discomfort, studying the menu he held between his large hands, eyes creased as he tried to decide what to order._

_Steve already knew, he had known since the minute they stepped in here what he was going to order, he had dreamed of trying it for years, ever since his mother told him about this place when he was little._

_They shouldn't be here though, not for a simple drinks and dinner between friends after a long day at the pier. They should be at the Clam, or the Stool, not at one of the nicest restaurants in Brooklyn._

_This was where people brought their dates._

_This couldn't be a date, they were men and men just didn't date each other._

_No, this was just a dinner between friends and that was it._

_Once Steve came to that conclusion, he let his nerves flow away, and had one of the better nights he could remember in a while. Laughter flowed across the table, especially as Thor fought and lost with the plate of pasta that he had decided on ordering, the noodles refusing to stick to the fork like the man wanted them too._

_The beer was good, though Thor once again decided that It wasn't as good as the 'ale' from his home, a place that Steve wasn't quite too sure of the location, though he had decided not to pry._

_He wouldn't be the first person that ran from the tensions rising in Europe, the entire world waiting with baited breath for War to breakout once again. Steve just figured it was a sore subject, and refused to press._

_All too soon the night was coming to an end, the two walking side by side through the backstreets of Brooklyn to the apartment Steve shared with Bucky. He hoped that Bucky would still be out with his latest dame, he and Steve didn't see eye to eye about Thor and Steve would rather avoid another fight if he could at all help it._

_"Thank you, for accompanying me this eve, Steven." Thor said, looking down at him with so very blue eyes as they reached the door to Steve and Bucky's apartment._

_"No problem, buddy. I had a swell time, we'll have to do it again." Steve smiled, reaching out to smack a hand against Thor's arm, frowning as his hand was caught gently between Thor's larger ones and held still._

_Okay, this was...very strange._

_"I am glad, Steven." With that same smile, Thor lifted Steve's hand towards his mouth and Steve's heart began thudding in his chest. Had it suddenly gotten warmer? Steve felt his face flooding with heat as Thor's lips pressed to the back of his hand softly, warmth flooding him from that simple contact._

_He couldn't think of what to say, his mind felt jumbled and not all there as he watched Thor straightened up from his bent position of Steve's hand, giving him another of his blinding smiles._

_"I will see you soon, Svass." Steve took that as his cue, fumbling his hand behind his back to open the door to his apartment and nearly falling inside as it was suddenly yanked open behind him, Bucky catching him one armed before he hit the ground._

_Steve groaned under his breath a the glare he could feel Bucky sending over his head as he was gently righted, Bucky not letting go until he was sure that Steve had his feet under him._

_It figures, there was no way that these two weren't entirely slated to annoy the hell out of each other, if only to ruin Steve's fun._

_"Thor." It was a growled, and Steve reacted immediately, pushing at his best friend until the other man moved backwards, allowing Steve to turn and give Thor a smile._

_"Good night, Thor. I'll see you later, then?" He barely waited for the blonde's answering nod, before pushing Bucky inside the apartment and kicking the door shut behind him with a foot, glaring a Bucky with everything he had._

_They were going to have this out, right here and now. Bucky was always spoiling for a fight, but this was getting out of control._

_"James Buchanen Barnes." Steve smirked to himself as Bucky paled and backed away from Steve, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Bucky's mom. She was the one who gave Steve the tip on how to handle her out of control son. "We need to talk."_

Steve closed the journal and sat back in the simple chair his room in the psych department supplied him, staring at the wall as he thought.

One week.

Seven days.

Seven days, and Steve didn't know what to think, or how to act.

Everything had changed around him, again.

"Captain?" The knock on the door startled him, and he looked towards it, the friendly nurse from the ward sticking her head in with a smile. "Captain, Prince Thor and your son are here to see you. Do you want me to let them in?"

Steve sighed.

He hadn't wanted Dus...Harry, brought here, not yet. Not until he was sure that his mind was his own again, as much as they could make it without a trip to Asgard.

He didn't want to ruin his chances any more than he already had.

The door swung open with a perfunctory knock, Thor stepping through with a bright smile on his face. The smile didn't meet his eyes, Steve noticed, and the surly teen stepping through the doors behind him was clearly the reason.

Their son...did not look happy. He was thinner, if that was possible, and the scowl on his face was darker than it had been a week ago.

Clearly, he was still not coming around to the truth, or not happy about the truth, or both to be honest.

This was not going to be a nice visit, Steve could feel it in the air.

"Thor...Harry," Steve said the name like an offering, a half smile on his face that quickly fell away when the teen didn't react.

Thor shook his head, subtly, not making a move to get in between the two.

Whatever was happening on the outside between the two of them, it didn't look like it was anything good.

"Steven, how are you?" Thor's voice was a rumble, his arms crossing over his chest, "Loki informs us that you are free from his influence."

Harry shifted away from the two of them, leaning his back against the door and focusing his eyes on the wall as far away from Steve and Thor as he could possibly manage. He clearly wasn't interested in the conversation, and didn't want to be there by any stretch of the imagination.

That was too bad, Steve and Thor were his fathers, and he would just have to accept that.

Dammit.

Steve took a deep breath and turned away from the teen until he felt more in control, more like himself.

Dammit. This was not supposed to be happening. He was supposed to be in control of himself, Loki's influence gone and the Tesseract muted by distance. He was supposed to be able to control himself and see Harry for the first time without being overwhelmed.

Dammit!

"Steven?" Thor touched him briefly, moving to shield Harry from his view without making it obvious to the oblivious teen behind him. Coulson, or Loki, must have briefed him on the situation.

"I'm fine, Thor, I'm fine."

The god didn't look convinced.

"Svass, Father could remove the Tesseract from your mind, as he did Loki. Will you not let us contact him?" Thor was almost pleading, but Steve was not going to give in.

Everything wrong with his brain started because of Asgardians, he wasn't going to give them another chance to screw around with anything.

Especially when it may not even help.

"No, Thor, I won't. I already told the Director, and your brother, and Coulson. I am going to work through this on my own, I don't need someone else scrambling around in my brain." That is what it felt like, someone had reached into his mind and scrambled everything around until he couldn't even trust his own emotions as true.

He couldn't be trusted around his own son, and that hurt.

Talks of shell shock, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder as the doctors called it now, were ignored by him. He had known people who had it, he knew what it looked like, and that wasn't him. It wasn't. He was just suffering from the alien influences, and they would go away soon enough.

Steve ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him it wasn't going to be that easy.

"So, not only do you lie, but you are crazy too." Harry's voice was snide, and Steve fought to keep from reacting, though Thor's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I am loads better off here than with the Dursley's."

Steve took a deep breath, counting to ten in all the languages the Howling Commandos had ever taught him before letting himself respond. Harry was just lashing out, trying to regain control of his surroundings, the psychiatrists had warned him about this but that didn't make it any easier.

"Your father is not crazy, Harry. I will not remind you again to beware how you speak to your elders." Thor said, his tone clearly saying that he had said this a lot lately and had no illusions of it being heeded.

Harry scoffed and looked away from them, but Steve saw something curious and held back his smile.

Harry's face flushed from the reprimand, so maybe one of them at least was getting through to him.

Maybe there was hope for all of them after all.

* * *

><p>Harry wrapped his arms tightly around his body as he followed Thor out of the small hospital room Captain America had been staying since Harry was brought to the States a week ago, keeping his eyes on the white and black checkered tiles in front of him, counting his steps.<p>

He knew he was being cruel, more like Dudley than he had ever been in his life, but he couldn't help himself. He didn't want to be here, he really didn't, and no one was giving him any choice in the matter. They all listened to him complain, nodding their heads in sympathy when he tried to explain just how everything around him was wrong, but none of them did anything about it.

They all sprouted the same words, about how he would feel differently when he settled in and if he gave Steve and Thor a chance he would see just how much better things would be for him. Natasha, the terrifying Black Widow just raised her eyebrows when she heard him start to complain, never supporting one side or the other, but Harry got the feeling she thought he was being childish anyway.

Clint would just try to distract him with nerf arrows and strange video games that involved a lot more movement than the ones Dudley had played until he was too tired to think about anything else.

Mr. Stark, Tony, had been gone since that first meeting in the kitchen though Ms. Potts made frequent appearances.

All in all, Harry hated it, he hated everything and he would rather be in his room on Privet Drive than here.

"That was uncalled for, Harry." Thor said from somewhere off to his right, but Harry just shrugged and refused to answer. His gut churned as he thought about the look he knew would be on the large man's face.

Thor, since he came home from Hogwarts and Dudley talked nonstop about the Battle of New York, had been the Avenger Harry looked up to the most. He controlled the weather, and charged into battle without hesitating. He was a Gryffindor, and Harry had started dreaming of what it would be like to not be scared of battle, of being able to face Voldemort without his knees knocking in terror, just like he imagined Thor would.

Even with meeting the god and even with him trying to rip everything that Harry knew was true out from under him, the desire to try and impress him hadn't gone away.

And Harry hated it. He should be glad that Thor was upset with him, he should be doing everything he could to get away from New York and back to Britain, not upset and worried that the man was cross with him.

"We only want what is best for you Harry, I hope one day we can make you see that." Thor strode off ahead of him, though he stayed close enough to easily come to Harry's rescue if he was ambushed by kidnappers in the three minutes it would take them to get back to the elevator, and Harry felt even worse.

Was it his fault that he couldn't see them as his parents? They abandoned him, left him without a second thought, no matter what Loki and Thor tried to tell him. The Potters, Lily and James, loved him. They died for him. And Harry just couldn't erase their memory or spit on their sacrifice like that.

They gave up everything for him and he was going to do everything he could to make that sacrifice mean something. That had been the thought in the back of his mind when Hedwig found him a few days ago, flying into his open window in Stark Tower looking bedraggled and not very happy with him. Harry couldn't blame her, he hadn't thought of her since the day everything changed.

No one else noticed she was there, and his trunk was right there in his room, unlocked and waiting for him.

So, Harry did the one thing that he thought would help get him out of this.

He wrote the Headmaster, and crossed his fingers that Dumbledore would be able to come running to his rescue like he never had at the Dursley's, though his hand had bleed for ages after Hedwig nipped him hard before she flew off bearing his letter.

"Harry? Are you coming?" Harry blinked, lifting his head to stare at where Thor was patiently holding the elevator door open for him, a kicked puppy look on his face.

"Yeah, yeah I am." The teen stepped into the small space, the metal creaking a bit under their combined weight, and the doors slowly closed. The silence was deafening as they descended, until Harry just couldn't take it anymore and asked the first thing that popped into his head.

"How did you meet Steve?"

Thor brightened, turning to him with a smile, launching into the story without pausing. Harry listened, nodding in all the right places, and tried to bury the feeling that was welling in his gut.

He wasn't going to like them, he just wasn't. Dumbledore was going to come to his rescue, and he was going to leave without ever looking back, and that was all there was to it.

Harry Potter was the Boy Who Lived, and he had a job to do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for all of the amazing reviews, and hopefully this chapter clears up some of the concerns that have been stated. **

**Disclaimer-I still own nothing, and no copyright infringement is intended nor implied.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

Albus Dumbledore sighed as he looked at the two Professors standing next to him, the note from Harry James Potter (one of the most troublesome and important students to come through the halls of Hogwarts in a long time) hidden inside his robe pocket, and held out the tattered hat in his left hand. Severus and Minerva reached out and took it, Severus with a look of disgust all over his features and Minerva with determination.

Albus was reminded again that he had chosen his House Heads well, they would both walk through fire for him, and the students under their charge of course, and with what he was going to ask of them they may meet that fire sooner rather than later.

"Three. Two. One" Albus counted down, closing his eyes as the portkey gripped him behind the navel and swirled them off across the Atlantic to New York City, New York.

Where Harry Potter had been kidnapped by men claiming to be his biological parents.

It was the worst thing that could have happened, Dumbledore thought to himself. He had planned everything so well, covered everything up so that no one would ever know that the Potters lost their child, adopting the orphan that appeared on their doorstep all those years ago. He was their last hope, the only one that would be able to defeat Voldemort when he made his reappearance, there could be no concerns that he wasn't who he said he was.

Albus was going to have to make this go away as quickly, and as quietly, as he was able. It could not make it into the public's eye, or everything was ruined.

It was that thought in his head as they landed, all three staring around at the hustle and bustle around them. The American Ministry of Magic was much more cosmopolitan than their counterparts in Europe, and Albus could barely keep his head straight as the mix of muggle and wizarding dressed witches and wizards crossed in front of them, eyeing his own bright robes with wide eyes.

Albus didn't understand why, these were considered the height of fashion back home.

"Where is Potter, Headmaster? I do have potions that require my attention." Severus sneered, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at everyone who got to close to them. If Albus didn't need him, he would never have taken the surly professor with him, but there were few wizards that could match Severus Snape in terms of raw power, the Headmaster had the idea that he was going to need all the power he could get.

"His letter said Stark Tower. I assume it will not be too hard to find." Albus strode towards the entrance to the street, freezing momentarily as the crush and bustle of New York almost mowed him down where he stood.

Ridiculous that they wouldn't even try to conceal their entrance.

"Come along, Minerva, Severus. I want to be done with this unpleasant business. The Minister will be looking for all of us sooner rather than later."

* * *

><p><em>Dustin was dying in his arms. Blood poured out of the gaping wound in his stomach, more blood than Steve had seen in his life coating the ground around them, and he couldn't stop it no matter how much he pressed on it. The blood just kept coming. <em>

"_Dustin? Dustin stay with me buddy. Help is on the way." Help wasn't on the way, and Steve knew it, but he couldn't watch his only child die without giving him some kind of hope. _

_Steve felt like he was dying himself. _

"_Go away." It was a croak, and Steve froze, left hand still pressing down firmly on the wound. He leaned in, heart pounding in his chest._

"_Dustin?" The boy cracked open green eyes, seeing straight through Steve to the fear inside, and sneered. _

"_Go away. I don't want you here." _

_Steve's heart broke, just a little bit more. _

"_Dustin, I won't leave you here alone." _

_Steve wouldn't let him die alone. No one deserved to die alone. _

"_He's not alone. Now step away from my son." Steve froze at the voice, and the hand that tugged on his shoulder, unseating him and pulling him back from Harry. _

_Steve turned to look at who it was, but to his surprise he couldn't see the person. Or rather, he could, but it was like an image out of focus. All he could see was a glimpse of black hair and a mouth pulled into a scowl._

_"Dad," Dustin choked out, holding one hand out weakly. Steve's heart lightened for a fraction of a second as he reached out to take it, but then it plummeted lower than ever before as his son took the unknown man's hand._

"_I'm here Harry, I'm here." The man knelt down next to Harry, running a soothing hand through Dustin's (Harry's) now black hair. "I'm here, son." _

_Steve's heart broke as Dustin turned his head towards the man, a pained smile covering his face as he moved into that hand, taking the comfort that Steve had offered. _

_He didn't need Steve. _

_Even as he was dying, Harry (never Dustin) didn't want Steve. He wanted a ghost, a ghost that was more real to him than Steve would ever be. _

_Steve backed away, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene. The two on the ground were talking, low words that Steve couldn't make out but he saw the smile on Harry's face, joy replacing the pain that should be there. _

_Steve hated it. _

_His hands balled into fists at his side, and he wanted to rip the other man away from Harry (Dustin), but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't take the one bit of comfort his dying son had, just to make himself feel better. _

_He couldn't save Harry, but he could make sure no one else died like him. Tearing his eyes away from the scene in front of him, Steve looked around, searching with everything he had for the enemy._

_But there were only bodies, bodies stretched out as far as he could see. _

_All of them dead. _

_There wasn't even anyway for Steve to avenge him, someone else had already done so. _

_Steve was worthless, useless, a relic that should have died in the ice. _

"_Steven!" _

_Steve backed away from the scene, not wanting to see his son's final moments, but unable to stop looking. _

"_Steven!"_

_Harry and the stranger turned towards Steve, both of their eyes screaming accusations at him. _

"_You could have stopped this. Why didn't you? You said you loved me, but you couldn't even keep them from killing me." Harry croaked, blood beginning to dribble down his chin. "You let me die." _

_Steve shook his head, feeling like he was going to throw up. It wasn't his fault, he would have done anything to keep Harry (Dustin) from getting hurt, he hadn't been able to stop it. _

_It wasn't his fault, it wasn't! _

"_STEVEN!"_

Steve sat straight up at the shout, his heart pounding in his chest and sweat pouring down his face.

"STEVEN!" The shout came again, and Steve swung his legs over the side of his bed, climbing shakily to his feet and staggering towards the door.

He felt drunk, or like he had spent the entire week with the flu and was just now coming back to his senses.

Dustin, Harry, wasn't dead, he knew that by looking around. It had only been a dream but he still felt like dropping to his knees and sobbing until there was nothing left in him to cry.

"STEVEN!" Thor screamed from the other side of the door again and Steve growled as he reached it, turning the lock and yanking the door open with a scowl on his face.

"If you yelled a little louder, I think the other side of the base could hear you." Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at the other blond. While not exactly the last person that Steve wanted to see, Thor was certainly high up on the list. "What do you need Thor?"

"Harry was taken."

Steve's world slowed down, and he blinked up at Thor, sure that he had misunderstood.

"What? What do you mean he was taken?"

Thor frowned at him and started walking away from the door, clearly expecting Steve to follow him. Mjolnir was lashed tightly to his belt, and Steve could see the sparks jumping off the hammer. It took a lot to get the Thunderer off balance, but he was more agitated than Steve had ever seen him.

"He was taken. By your world's magic users. And we will get him back." Steve followed along in Thor's wake as they walked past the shield agents at the desk, agents that stared at the two of them wide eyed as they strode past, and Steve didn't object as Thor pulled him tightly to his chest as soon as they stepped outside. Thor's armor cut into him, the metal uncomfortable against the thin shirt Steve had been wearing when he went to bed

However, that thought was driven from his mind when, with a twirl of Thor's mighty hammer, they went shooting up into the sky. His stomach seemed to vanish and he gripped Thor tightly, suddenly not very assured by the arm securing him.

But he had to trust Thor, if only to get to Harry.

And he would make the bastards who thought they could take his son pay.

They had only traveled a few minutes, though each one ticked by like molasses as Steve thought of all the bad things that could be happening to Dustin (Harry, dammit. He had to remember to call him Harry).

If they hurt one hair on his head, the world was going to burn.

"There!" Thor dropped without another word, and Steve's stomach went into his throat, but he forced himself to keep as calm as he could.

The figures below them, three adults and one child shape that was clearly Harry, came into view and Thor hurtled towards them, letting Steve go so Captain America could drop and roll into the middle of the group. Thor landed not far behind him, Mjolnir in his hand and death in his eyes.

This...was the Thunder God.

The group stopped moving, and stared at the two of them.

"Let him go." Steve's voice came out calmer than he anticipated, but the adults facing him just sneered. Harry whimpered as the tall rather creepy looking man tightened his grip on Harry's arm and Steve saw red. "Let. Him. Go."

Thor spun Mjolnir once in a slow circle, a gust of wind heading towards the group and bowling one of them over, the ridiculous top hat he was wearing tumbling off and disappearing into the gloom of the alley.

"Potter is none of your concern any longer, muggle. He will be coming with us." the dark one sneered, tightening his grip as Harry tried to pull away and pulling another whimper from the boy. There was going to be a striking bruise the next morning, and Steve couldn't have that.

"No, he won't." Steve leaped forward without thinking, wishing he had his shield to throw but more than willing to rely on his bare hands.

"Cap, about time you got here." An arrow impacted the ground directly at the feet of the dark one, Steve would have to learn his name before he pummelled him. Steve pulled up short. Clint stepped out of the darkness, bow drawn with another arrow notched and ready to fire, dressed in basketball shorts and his hair in disarray. It was obvious that he had been in bed when things went down, but the Master Assassin was not one to let a little thing like lack of clothing get in his way.

He may even enjoy it more.

It explained how Thor was able to find the group so fast, without any sort of tracker on Harry. Not that Tony hadn't been offering one, and after this he may get his chance.

"Now let the kid go, Professor Snape, and we may all be able to forget that this ever happened." Clint moved closer, clearly trying to prevent Steve from doing the permanent harm that he wanted to, "At least we may be able to keep all of you in once piece."

Thor growled from their left, Mjolnir sparking in his hand.

"We will not forget this trespass, Friend Hawk." Thor said, thunder beginning to growl above them, "They will release my son, or they will die."

The group reacted immediately at the threat, Professor Snape shoving Harry away from him to pull a thin stick from his robes.

"Bombarda!" The word was gibberish, but the red light streaming from the stick looked nasty and Steve dodged to the side, the concrete behind where he was standing ripping up as if hit by a humongous force.

"What the hell?!" Steve looked at Thor in horror and the blond just shrugged, hurling Mjolnir only for the hammer to be dodged and another stream of light to go tearing past both of them.

"As I said, they are your worlds magic users. Harry's caregivers were part of their society."

Well, wasn't that just fantastic?

* * *

><p>Harry was cold, and his feet hurt, and he just wanted to be somewhere where he could sleep.<p>

When Snape shoved him aside and threw a spell powerful enough to tear up the street behind Captain America, Steve staring at him like he was in the hands of a monster instead of a professor, Harry thought things were going to get bad.

"Harry, move back!" Harry obeyed the barked command without thinking, Thor's Hammer flying close enough to him that he gasped and flinched away. Thor's words came back to him as Daedelus Diggle, the little man in the top hat that had bowed to Harry on the streets so long ago took the brunt of the hammer strike and crumpled under it, not moving.

Would they really kill for him?

Harry couldn't take the thought and bolted, heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't looking where he was going, his only thought on getting away from it all, and he barreled right into the sickly green light Snape hurled.

At first, he thought he was dead. After all, green spells were never good.

If he was dead, he wouldn't hurt, but agony was breaking out over his body as the Dursley hand-me-down he was wearing split in multiple places and his skin followed.

He wasn't dead but he may be dying.

Harry screamed and clutched his chest, trying to keep the blood that was rapidly covering his skin inside where it belonged, but he was fighting a losing battle.

"HARRY!" The battle froze around him, Remus' shout startling everyone into silence for a few precious seconds and Harry blinked.

"Mooney? I don't feel well."

His legs suddenly gave out under him and he collapsed, fully expecting to hit the concrete underneath him but he never impacted. He gasped as strong hands caught him, and he found himself looking up into bright blue eyes filled with panic.

Harry tried to speak but all that came out was a weak gurgle. He tried to breathe but it felt like he was drowning. Pain was clouding his senses and he fought to breathe, barely noticing the voices of those around him. He heard Steve's voice, the word "No" being repeated over and over.

Thunder boomed overhead and lightning crackled, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the wizards get blasted away, leaving the smell of burning ozone behind. He could barely make out Thor's shape, his eyesight blurry, the god only identifiable by his red cape and glittering armor.

He could hear a frantic discussion as he tried to focus, but it was a losing battle. A hand was pressing down on the wound on his chest and while it probably should have hurt, his senses seemed to have dulled. He felt sleepy and couldn't think. Colors bled together, panicked blue eyes and blonde hair of the two Avengers mixing. Just before he lost consciousness, he saw a bright light coming toward him, shining with all the colors of the rainbow.

* * *

><p>Thor paced outside the door to the healing halls, growling as each scream of pain reached him through the door. Steven sat with his head in his hands on a bench across from the door, staring at the floor.<p>

"How much longer?" Steve asked, mumbling as he straightened up and carded a hand through his hair, the blond strands sticking up in all directions and tinged slightly red.

"I do not know, Svass." Thor sighed, crossing his arms and glaring at the door. "I do not know."

Thor knew his mother was the greatest healer to ever grace the halls of Asgard, and she had pulled him from the brink of death on more than one occasion with injuries far more dire than Harry bore, but that did not stop the worry from consuming him.

"We should be in there." Steven, the strongest mortal Thor had ever had the privilege of knowing, was broken and if Harry passed… Thor knew that Steve wouldn't be long following him. He had never seen a more devoted father. "Why aren't we in there?"

Steve stood up, muscles tensing as he prepared to move. Thor knew what he was planning, but he couldn't allow it.

"Do not try, Svass." Thor warned, shifting to block the other man's approach. "Mother knows what she is about, our presence will only distract her."

Harry screamed again, and suddenly his words were not enough. Steve moved quicker than a mortal had the right to and barreled into Thor, shoved past him and into the door, slamming it into the wall behind him.

"Thor Odinson!" Frigga's voice echoed throughout the halls and Thor groaned as Steve charged towards the bed. "Control your consort, now!"

He would, if he was able. Steve could match him more in strength than any other mortal, and he had desperation on his side. Thor did not want to hurt Steven if he had any other choice.

"You're hurting him." It was a growl, and Frigga narrowed her eyes at Steven while her fellow healers moved around the body thrashing on the bed.

"No, Captain." Frigga stated, voice like ice. "He is hurting himself. Unless he accepts our healing, we will not be able to help him. The most we can do is keep him tethered to this side of Valhalla."

No.

Thor would not allow this.

"Mother." He stepped up to the bed, putting a hand on Harry's (too small) chest and holding him on the bed. The boy calmed slightly at the touch, his face flushed and blood still seeping sluggishly from the wounds he never should have received, Steve's hands joining his on the boy chest. "Let us take them."

She looked at him, blue eyes so like his sweeping over them from head to toe as she considered his request. The Queen of Asgard weighed them….and hopefully found them worthy.

"Follow me." Steve immediately shook his head, glaring at the Queen of Asgard like she was nothing more than an irritating obstacle in his path.

"I'm not leaving him." Thor sighed at Steve's declaration, but knew that he would not be able to change the mortal's mind. "You do what you have to do, but I am not leaving him."

Thor watched the two of them, the boy still whimpering on the bed while blood trickled from wounds that he never should have gotten while Steve held him down as tenderly as he could, and knew that he would do whatever he had could, what ever he had to, to make sure that the two of them stayed alive and thriving.

"Thor." Frigga spoke again, urgency tinting her tone and Thor turned to follow her, knowing that if he looked back he would not be able to leave. "With me."

He followed, clenching his fists as she led him into an anteroom, wanting nothing more than to be back at Harry and Steven's side. She turned to face him, her blue eyes cool.

"You know what you are asking?" He nodded.

He did, he had never seen it performed, but he knew. It would hurt, but he was strong and he would survive. Harry would survive, and that was all that mattered in the end.

"And you accept, freely?"

"I do." His voice did not waver as he answered, breathing deep and feeling his body settle.

If he could help, if he could do anything to ease their suffering, he would.

"So be it." She reached forward her hand glowing with a pale green light, the same green light that struck Harry down, and touched his chest.

Thor's world exploded into agony.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer-I still own nothing. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied. **

**AN-It is NaNoWriMo, which means that updates will be a little slower than the usually are, but I will pick up at full speed once November is over. **

**Thank you for all of the reviews, favorites, and alerts for the last chapter and this story overall. A special shoutout to the Anon reviewer who left such nice words, I would have replied but you didn't log in. **

**There is a little bit of OOC Dumbledore in this, though I hope that it doesn't lean towards bashing, but from here on out we will slowly start to get into book four territory and things will start to move a little faster now that a lot of the world building and reactions are out of the way. Thank you all for sticking with me even when things looked a little shaky, especially on the Steve front. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

Harry blinked himself awake slowly, and he immediately knew that something was different.

He could see, for one, without the feeling of glasses on his face. That would have been clue enough.

Second, he didn't hurt like he thought he should. There had been so much blood, he should be dead not awake without pain.

What was going on?

"Try not to move too much, child. Your wounds have not fully...healed." The woman hesitated on the word, and Harry carefully turned his head towards where he thought she was sitting, squinting his eyes against the brightness of the room he was in.

"Where am I?" Harry croaked, wetting his lips and wishing that he had water...or anything to get rid of the scratch in his throat.

As soon as he thought it, a glass was pressed to his lips and his head was held up by a slender hand.

"Slowly." Harry did as instructed and groaned as he swallowed, the water felt amazing sliding down his throat. "Good."

All too soon the water was taken away and Harry looked at his caregiver, trying to think of what to ask when she laughed at him, blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You are very much like your father, child." Harry's eyes lit up.

"You knew my dad? What was he like?" Harry had heard about Lily, and he heard about James from Sirius and Mooney, but he wanted to know everything that he could.

"Child," She sighed, blue eyes dimming. "Why do you fight against the truth so entirely? Your fathers are not trying to erase your previous caregivers from your mind, they just want a chance to know you as they should have."

Harry flinched backwards, having the strange feeling he was being chided for something that he had no control over, but he couldn't stop himself from answering. Harry was tired of everyone looking at him like he was the bad guy for not falling on his knees and praising that he now had two strangers trying to be his parents. He was sick of it.

"Everyone keeps saying that, but its not true! Even if it was, they dragged me away from my home, my friends, and just expect me to like it!" Harry stated, crossing his arms gingerly over his chest and glaring at her, "I want to go back to my friends, and my school. Why won't they understand that? If they loved me so much, they would never have left me with my parents to begin with. You can't just walk back into someone's life thirteen years later and expect them to be happy."

She frowned at him and reached out to touch his hair, tucking strands behind his ear.

"Has no one told you what happened? How you ended up with those you count your parents in the first place?" She asked sadly, and Harry shook his head. They had tried, but he hadn't listened. He didn't want to know why he was abandoned, and it didn't matter anyway. The Potters were his parents and that's all he needed to know.

Harry knew that he sounded like a broken record, but he didn't care. Why wouldn't everyone just let this go?

"Oh they have tried, mother, but nephew mine is rather...stubborn." Harry turned to look at the new voice, green eyes pinning him where he lay on the bed.

"Loki." The woman at his bedside smiled and stood, opening her eyes for the new comer and hugging him for all that she was worth. "Welcome home."

"Mother." Loki extracted himself from his mother's embrace and came to sit on the bed beside Harry, and Harry couldn't help but track him with his eyes. Why would no one tell him what was going on?

"You look confused, nephew." Harry blinked at being spoken to, and decided that he would be just as blunt. Maybe someone would finally let him know what the heck was going on.

"Where are we?" That seemed like the most immediate concern. Harry could tell they were in an infirmary of some sort, he spent enough time in Madame Pomfrey's domain that he could recognize one without much difficulty.

"You are in the Healing Halls of Asgard, child." the woman settled herself back at Harry's left side, straightening the blankets that were pulled over him absently. "Your father's brought you here after your injury."

That Harry remembered. He remembered the pain, he remembered the hands that caught him before he hit the ground, and he remembered the rainbow lights that filled his vision before he remembered nothing more.

"Asgard?" Really? He was in Asgard? She nodded and smiled.

"Yes, child." He wished she would stop calling him child, he wasn't four. Harry had a name, and he was getting tired of people not using it.

"My name is Harry...ma'am." He added the latter at the sharp look Loki sent him, a look that he in no way wanted pointed at him again. Loki had almost destroyed New York, from all accounts, and Harry didn't want to see what he would do if he was agitated.

"Your Majesty? Prince Thor is beginning to wake." A white gowned figured appeared over the woman's shoulder, and the woman immediately stood, leaving Loki and Harry alone without another word.

Harry frowned.

"Thor was injured? What happened?" Harry was beginning to think that going back to sleep would be the best thing that he could do, none of this was making any sense. Asgard, Thor being injured, and his own...decidedly not dead state, none of it made sense.

Loki sighed, slouching back in his chair for a moment, before fixing his eyes on Harry.

"He did it to save you." Harry jumped almost a foot at the voice, yelping and trying to locate the newest occupant of the room without falling off the bed, glaring at Steve as his eyes finally landed on him.

"Don't sneak up on people! Do I need to get you a bell?!" Harry chest was heaving and he felt the phantom pull of long healed injuries on his chest. Loki laughed throatily, the sound echoing through the quiet halls. Steve didn't find it as funny, and settled in the recently vacated seat.

"How is my brother?"

They were back to talking over his head, and Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

"He's alive, that's about all I can say at this point." Steve sighed and reached out, straightening the blanket yet again, patting it to keep it in place. "Queen Frigga thinks that he will make a full recovery."

"That is good. The magic was one I am unfamiliar with, but Thor is pig headed, he will not let it defeat him." Harry wasn't sure who Loki was trying to reassure, himself or Steve, and felt a twinge of guilt.

He shouldn't have run towards the fight, he should have stayed where Snape left him until things were over, but as usual he got himself into more trouble than he could get out of.

"How can he be hurt if he's a god?" Harry interjected, a bit tired of being ignored. "I thought that meant he was immortal."

Steve turned to look at him, a softness in his eyes that made Harry feel strange. "He's not invulnerable, Du-...Harry. He lives longer and is stronger, but he can be hurt just like we can."

Harry cocked his head to the side slightly as he suddenly realized something. "How old are you?" he asked the Super-Soldier.

Steve's lips twitched slightly. "Mentally? Twenty-eight. Physically?" He chuckled slightly. "About ninety-two, give or take."

Harry's jaw dropped. He knew there were rumors that the Captain America in front of him was really the Captain America from the second World War, but Harry hadn't honestly believed it.

He didn't look old.

"Wait." Harry had a thought, and it wasn't necessarily a thought that he liked all that much, but he had to know. "when was I born?"

Steve cocked his head to the side slightly and stared at Harry, before grinning brightly. It wasn't a look fit for their surroundings, but it still warmed Harry in places he didn't want to think about. He wasn't going to get attached, because he wasn't going to be here for longer than he had to be.

"July 11th, 1944."

Steve smirked as Harry leaned back and blinked in shock, jaw opening and closing as he fought to find something to say.

"What?" Harry couldn't process the words. He was thirteen, almost fourteen not….almost seventy years old. "That's not possible."

"I am afraid, nephew mine, that it is my mistake that landed you so far ahead of your peers."

Harry stared at Loki, and suddenly had an immense desire to know what he was talking about.

"What do you mean?"

Loki closed his eyes and began to talk.

_July 17th, 1944_

_Roots of Yggdrasil _

_Loki tucked the bundle in his arms closer to his body and took a deep breath. He wasn't scared, not of the pathways only he knew, but he had never taken another body through them and he wasn't sure the babe would be able to handle the treck. _

_He had to attempt, dangers or no. _

_Steven was gone, and Thor was quarted on Asgard in between boughts at the head of the Asgardian forces. He was all that poor Dustin had left, even if he did not know of the child. _

_This had all been for Thor, after all, and it was time that he knew. _

_Steve would have wanted that. _

"_We have no other choice, little one." Dustin fussed in his arms as Loki stepped through one of the rifts, the cold of between striking them both. Loki bundled the baby closer, wrapping the edge of his cloak around him until only the tip of his nose poked out. "If your grandfather catches us before we speak with your father, it will not end well for either of us." _

_That was an understatement. Odin did not regard mortals with anything other than apathy, and he would not take the appearance of one in his court with any kind of grace, grandson or not. _

_Dustin screamed harder the farther they moved from Midgard, and Loki had to tighten his grip as the baby fussed harder. _

_Losing him here in the between was not an option, nothing but death and destruction lay on the branches of Yggdrasil. _

"_Hush, child, hush. Not much longer." Dustin merely waved his tiny (almost too tiny) fists in the air, face scrunched up in displeasure and Loki frowned with alarm as he felt magic beginning to surround the two of them. _

_Magic here, especially unconscious magic, was not advisable. Loki didn't know what effect it would have on the area around them, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to find out. _

"_No, little one. Stop." Lok said, tryign to wrap his own magic around the boy and contain it until he could get them to safety. _

_Dustin wasn't having any of it, and with one last face scrunch, Dustin disappeared. Swearing rather creatively, Loki rushed ahead, dodging down holes that only he knew and heading to Asgard as quickly as he could. _

_If he was lucky, he would be able to find the boy and present him to his father quickly. _

_If not, Thor may never forgive him. _

Harry blinked, something he was doing a lot of lately.

"How did I end up with my...parents?" He didn't know what to think anymore. The story made no sense, and everything in him wanted to ignore it and hold onto the anger, but part of him was tired and didn't want to anymore.

Steve sighed and Loki shrugged, neither looking sure.

"That is a question for the Norns, Harry. I do not know." Loki climbed to his feet and headed towards the door that the Queen had disappeared down, smiling at Steve and Harry over his shoulder. "I shall leave the two of you to speak, and help mother keep Thor from injuring himself further. If such a thing is possible."

Steve nodded, watching the door with concern in his eyes, before turning back to Harry and studying him in silence for a few minutes. Harry wanted to fidget but refused to allow himself to.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Steve said, leaning forward with his head between his knees.

"Sorry for what?" Harry wanted to know, there were a ton of things that he felt the blond should be apologizing for.

"For how I acted when we first met. I wasn't exactly in my right mind." Steve was flushed, and a little sheepish, and Harry felt hopeful.

"So you'll let me go back?" Steve frowned and reached out to push Harry's hair off of his forhead, frowning at the scar Harry knew was there.

"Sorry kiddo, I can't." He held up a hand when Harry sat up straight in anger, "I know that's not what you want to hear, buddy, but it's the truth. I know you think we're trying to replace the Potters, that's the last thing we want to do, but we can't just let you go back. You are my son, and I love you more than you'll ever be able to know, we just want the chance to know you."

Harry frowned and sat back a bit.

He had never heard those words before, not from the Weasleys and certainly not from the Dursleys, and they warmed a place in him that he thought was long dead. But he didn't want that.

Did he?

Harry honestly didn't know anymore. Everything was so mixed up and he didn't know how he was supposed to feel.

He wanted all of this to go away.

'Tell me about the Potters?" Steve asked, giving him that smile that made him look ten years younger.

"Oh yeah, you weren't there when the Headmaster explained things to Thor, I forgot about that." Steve frowned.

"Headmaster?" Harry nodded.

"Yeah, Professor Dumbledore. He's the Headmaster of my school, Hogwarts. Mum and Dad went there." Harry ignored the brief look of pain that covered Steve's face. "I was on the rolls from the minute I was born….well, I guess from the minute they adopted me."

"Boarding school?" Harry nodded and launched into an explanation of Hogwarts (leaving out the various troubles that he had found himself in over the years. Thor hadn't heard them, and he didn't want Steve to be the first one who did and lose his mind again.) Steve laughed at the appropriate parts, frowned at the stupidity of Lockhart, and didn't look too enthusiastic about Quidditch, but Harry was sure that he would love it when he tried it...or at least enough to let Harry keep playing. Harry couldn't lose Quidditch, not on top of everything else.

"What about the Potters? You didn't say much about them." Steve was nothing if not stubborn, and Harry frowned. He didn't know how to explain the Potters, after all he had no memories but the one of his mum dying, but they gave everything for him, and that was all that mattered. "What were they like?"

Harry shrugged and picked at the fraying edge of the blanket that was over him, pulling the threads like it was the only thing that mattered.

"I don't really remember, they did when I was one." Harry sighed, "But they died protecting me, and I can never forget that. If it wasn't for me, if they had never taken me in, they would still be alive."

The room was silent for a few minutes, Steve leaning forward to offer comfort and Harry leaning away to avoid it.

"It wasn't your fault, Harry."

Harry felt his temper snap. For the last two years, people told him the same thing. 'Its not your fault, Harry." "You were just a baby, Harry." and he was sick of it!

"You don't know anything about it! You weren't there, you don't know what I did! If it wasn't for me, if I was never there, they could have gotten away! Mum and Dad would have gotten away if they didn't have to worry about me. It is my fault."

"Harry…" Steve didn't know what to say, and that was okay with Harry. There was nothing he could say that would change Harry's mind, and it was better that he not even try.

The door came open again, the footsteps heading towards the bed Harry was situated on, and Harry looked over curiously. Maybe Thor was back? He couldn't be as injured as they were saying he was, he was a God after all.

"King Odin." Steve's voice was respectful where Harry couldn't even find his voice as he stared at the grey haired man looming over him, eyepatch over one eye and a spear held tightly in his left hand.

King Odin? The Odin, the King of Asgard? That Odin?

Harry wanted to crawl under the bed and hide, even wizards had stories of the power Odin wielded, and Harry did not want his attention.

"Steven." There was no respect in the king's voice, but Steve didn't flinch, just nodded. "At least the child looks like my son. I assume this is Loki's mischief?"

What?

"Remus! What happened?!" Remus wanted to snarl as he carried Snape into the infirmary, the smell of burned and charred skin filling his nose and making him want to gag. Snape was...a mess of a human being, only the slight rise and fall of his chest and the moans of pain that Remus could hear telling that he was alive.

"One of the Muggles was not a muggle, not at all, and nearly killed us. What was he?!" Diggle was barely on his feet behind Remus, panic clear in his voice as he spoke, but Remus just dropped his cargo as gently as he could and started to walk away.

He had to get to the apparition point, he had to find Harry. He owed it to the boys parents, his real parents, to make sure that he was safe.

Not in the hands of liars and murderers.

"I do not know, Daedelus. How did Severus end up this way?" The Headmaster still loomed in the doorway, blocking Remus' exit and he bit back the snarl again. "Remus, tell me what happened my boy."

It was not a request.

Remus began to pace, his senses going haywire as Poppy hustled from her office and over towards the badly burned Potions Master, her wand and potions making the dour man scream and writhe on the bed as she did what she had to do to save his life. Remus wished he could block it all out.

He wished he had never come back to civilization, the wild wolves he had spent so much time with were much easier to understand, and he wasn't expected to deal with things like this.

"We were almost to the American Ministry, and the portkey they were supposed to have waiting, when we were ambushed. There were three of them, one of them had a hammer and controlled lightening. He controlled lightening, Headmaster, how did he do that?" Remus ran a hand through his rapidly greying hair as he paced, "Snape retaliated, and in the scuffle Harry got free and ran into the middle of things. Snape caught him with a spell, and…"

Hands grabbed Remus by the upper arms and turned him around, the grip punishing as he looked up into blazing blue eyes, void of the normal sparkle.

"Is Harry alive?" the Headmaster shook him, and Remus rapidly nodded as he tried to wrench himself away without harming the elderly man. "Is Harry alive?!"

"I don't know! He was before they disappeared!" Remus pulled away and backed up several steps, thinking of how long it would take him to leave Hogwarts and get away.

Coming back here was a huge mistake.

"They took Harry? Where did they take him?" Remus felt his jaw drop.

Did the Headmaster not understand? Remus had no idea what happened, what happened shouldn't be possible but it had happened and there was nothing that any of them could do about it. Remus was going to look, of course he was going to look he had to keep Harry away from those people, but he had no big thoughts of success.

"I don't know, Headmaster, I don't know. He was injured, two men ran to him after one of them his Snape with more lightning than I have ever seen strike in one place, and they disappeared in a splash of color."

The Headmaster sank into a chair, looking like he had aged years in the seconds Remus had been staring at him, muttering to himself.

"Could it be? It couldn't be."

No one could get anything else out of him, Minerva summoning a house elf to lead the Headmaster back to his room. Remus knew that he wasn't going to stay down for long, Dumbledore would never allow himself to be taken out of the game, not for long.

"Where are you going, Remus?" Minerva met him at the door to the infirmary, and Remus growled, unable to keep it back this time.

"I'm going to find Harry."

Albus Dumbledore was shaken.

Severus was in the infirmary below him, almost dead, because of Albus and his decision.

The Headmaster could live with that, the good of the many outweighed the good of the few, but losing Harry Potter?

That, he couldn't live with.

They still needed the boy.

But this….this was something he hadn't anticipated.

Thor, Harry's self-proclaimed Father, hadn't seemed anything other than a muggle with a penchant for mythological names and speaking in riddles, Dumbledore wrote him off as nothing more than an annoyance that would be taken care of us as soon as Harry was back in the Headmaster's custody. The muggle's refusal to release Harry was of no nevermind, Severus and the others were more than capable of reclaiming him.

Or so he thought.

If this Thor was who he claimed to be, well, maybe it was a good thing that Potter was gone.

Albus wanted what was best for the Wizarding World, and what was best was him at the head, steering things for the Greater Good. Harry Potter would serve his purpose, and then Albus would step forward to take the reigns.

This...would ruin everything.

Everything.


End file.
